Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/aramintaOOsnairich 


AEAMINTA 


BY 


J.  C.  SNAITH 

Author  of   "William  Jordan,  Junior,"    "Broke 

OF   COVENDEN,"   EtC. 


NEW  YORK 

MOFFAT,  YARD  AND  COMPANY 

1909 


f  i?/ 


5  66^ 


^l 


Copyright,  1908,  1909,  bt 
THE  FORUM  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

Copyright,  1909,  by 

MOFFAT,  YARD  AND  COMPANY 

New  York 

Published.  February,  1909 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 


VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX, 

XXI. 


PAGE 

The  Old  Woman  of  Hill  Street        .  1 

The  Idea  Which  Came  to  Her   .        .  9 

Lord  Cheriton  Looks  In        ...  22 
Arrival   of   the   First   Cause   of  All 

Romance 38 

The  Instinct  of  Mr.  Marchbanks  Be- 
trays   Him 48 

Unwarrantable    Behavior   of    Tobias  66 

A  Throwback 80 

"  Caroline      Crewkerne's      Gainsbor- 
ough " 98 

In   Which    Cheriton   Drops   His   Um- 
brella       108 

Jim  Lascelles  Makes  His  Appearance  119 

Miss  Perry  is  the  Soul  of  Discretion  140 

Jim  Lascelles  Takes  a  Decisive  Step  151 

High  Revel  is  Held  in  Hill  Street  161 
Ungentlemanlike    Behavior    of    Jim 

Lascelles 171 

Diplomacy  is  Called  For      .         .         .193 

Hyde   Park 200 

Development  of  the  Female   Us        .  213 

Fashion  Comes  to  the  Acacias     .        .  226 

A  Social  Triumph 243 

Miss    Perry    Has    Her    Palm    Crossed 

with  Silver 256 

High  Diplomacy 267 

v 


€^    y^  iTk    .4  /^   r> 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII.     A  Conversation  at  Ward's        ,        .  281 

XXIII.  Muffin  Makes  Her  Appearance  at 

Pen-y-Gros  Castle            .        .        .  292 

XXIV.  Episode    of    a    French    Novel    and 

A   Red  Umbrella       ....  304 

XXV.     Paris  on  Mount  Ida   ....  322 
XXVI.     Jim     Lascelles     Adds     Heroism     to 

His    Other   Fine    Qualities   .         .  3S4! 

XXVII.     Revel  is  Held  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  348 

XXVIII.     A  Thunderbolt 365 

XXIX.     Jim  Lascelles  Writes  His  Name  in 

the  Visitors'  Book   ....  375 

XXX.     GooD-BY 383 

XXXI.     Disintegration 392 

XXXII.     Barne    Moor 402 

XXXIII.     Everything    for    the    Best    in    the 

Best  of  All  Possible  Worlds       .  410 


ARAMINTA 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    OLD    WOMAN    OF    HILL    STREET 

AN  old  lady  who  lived  in  Hill  Street  was  making 
^/j^  arrangements  to  enter  upon  her  seventy-fourth 
year. 

It  was  a  quarter  to  nine  in  the  morning  by  the 
ormolu  clock  on  the  chimney-piece;  and  the  old  lady, 
somewhat  shriveled,  very  wide-awake,  and  in  the  ab- 
sence of  her  toupee  from  the  position  it  was  accus- 
tomed to  grace — at  present  it  was  in  the  center  of 
the  dressing-table — looking  remarkably  like  a  macaw, 
was  sitting  up  in  bed.  Cushions  supported  her  ven- 
erable form,  and  an  Indian  shawl,  the  gift  of  her 
Sovereign,  covered  her  aged  shoulders. 

There  were  people  who  did  not  hesitate  to  describe 
her  as  a  very  worldly-minded,  not  to  say  very  wicked, 
old  lady.  The  former  of  these  epithets  there  is  none 
to  dispute;  in  regard  to  the  latter,  let  our  silence 
honor  the  truth.  It  is  far  from  our  intention  to 
asperse  the  character  of  one  who  has  always  passed 
as  a  Christian ;  nor  do  we  ascribe  to  human  frailty 
the  sinister  significance  that  some  people  do.    But  as 


^  ARAMINTA 

far  as  this  old  lady  is  concerned  it  is  a  point  upon 
which  we  have  no  bigotry. 

If  sheer  worldliness  of  mind  is  akin  to  wickedness, 
the  old  woman  who  hved  in  Hill  Street  must  have 
come  perilously  near  to  that  state.  Her  views  upon 
all  matters  relating  to  this  world  were  extremely  ro- 
bust, and  years  and  experience  had  confirmed  her  in 
them.  In  regard  to  the  next  world  she  seldom  ex- 
pressed an  opinion.  In  this  she  was  doubtless  wise. 
Sitting  very  upright  in  her  bed,  with  those  glittering 
eyes  and  hawk-like  features  the  unmistakable  mistress 
of  all  they  surveyed,  she  was  enough  to  strike  the 
boldest  heart  with  awe.  Not  that  temerity  was  the 
long  suit  of  Miss  Burden,  a  gentlewoman  of  a  certain 
age  whose  sole  mission  in  life  it  was  to  do  her  good 
will  and  pleasure  in  return  for  board  and  residence, 
and  forty  pounds  per  annum  paid  quarterly. 

Duly  fortified  with  a  slice  of  dry  toast  and  a  cup 
of  very  strong  tea,  the  old  lady  said  in  such  a  clear 
and  incisive  tone  that  she  must  have  studied  the  art 
of  elocution  in  the  days  of  her  youth — 

"  Burden,  cover  my  head." 

The  gentlewoman  obeyed  the  command  with  deli- 
cacy and  with  dexterity.  Yet  it  must  not  be  thought 
that  the  elaborate  mechanism  which  adorned  the  ven- 
erable poll  fourteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four  was 
taken  from  the  center  of  the  dressing-table.  It  was 
not.  Various  ceremonies  had  to  be  performed  before 
the  moment  arrived  for  its  reception.  In  its  place  a 
temporary,  but  none  the  less  marvelous,  erection  of 
fine  needlework  and  point  lace  was  produced  by  Miss 


THE  OLD  WOMAN  OF  HILL  STREET       S 

Burden,  and  arranged  like  a  veritable  canopy  about 
the  brow  of  Minerva. 

"  Admit  Marchbanks,"  said  the  voice  from  the  bed. 

The  door  opened  and  that  personage  was  ushered 
in.  Mr.  Marchbanks  merits  a  description  quite  as 
much  as  his  mistress.  Yet  how  to  do  justice  to  him, 
that  is  the  problem.  The  poise  of  his  bearing,  his 
urbane  reserve,  his  patrician  demeanor  were  those  of 
an  ambassador.  His  whole  being  was  enveloped  in  an 
air  of  high  diplomacy.  His  most  trivial  action 
seemed  to  raise  the  ghost  of  Lord  John  Russell.  Like 
his  venerable  mistress,  he  was  a  Wliig  to  the  core. 
He  had  been  born,  he  had  been  bred,  and  by  the  grace 
of  God  he  was  determined  to  die  in  that  tradition. 

Under  the  left  arm  of  Mr.  Marchbanks  was  the 
Morning  Post,  which  organ  of  opinion  had  been 
warmed  by  his  own  hands.  In  his  right  hand  he  bore 
a  small  silver  dish.  Upon  it  was  a  little  pile  of  rather 
important-looking  correspondence. 

With  the  courtly  grace  of  a  bygone  age,  Mr. 
Marchbanks  bowed  to  the  occupant  of  the  four- 
poster — old  ladies  who  live  in  Hill  Street  do  not  put 
their  faith  in  new  furniture — and  his  venerable  mis- 
tress was  pleased  to  say — 

"  Good  morning,  Marchbanks." 

"  Good  morning,  my  lady,"  said  Mr.  Marchbanks 
very  gravely;  and  then  said  he  with  a  benevolence 
that  would  have  made  a  considerable  fortune  in  Har- 
ley  Street :  "  I  trust  your  ladyship  has  slept  well." 

*'  As  well  as  one  can  expect  at  my  age,"  said  the 
occupant  of  the  four-poster. 


4  ARAMINTA 

No,  Mr.  Marchbanks  did  not  offer  his  venerable 
mistress  many  happy  returns  of  her  birthday.  And 
to  those  of  our  readers  who  aspire  to  serve  old  ladies 
who  live  in  Hill  Street — and  let  us  not  be  judged 
immodest  if  we  express  the  behef  that  many  who  are 
inspired  with  this  excellent  ambition  will  be  found 
among  them — a  word  of  warning  may  not  be  out  of 
place.  Let  us  urge  these  neophytes  not  to  take  the 
practice  of  Mr.  Marchbanks  for  their  guide.  His 
eminence  was  the  fruit  of  years.  Remember  he  had 
been  tipped  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  He  had 
pulled  down  the  coat  collar  of  Lord  Palmerston  on 
more  than  one  occasion ;  while  as  for  Lord  Gran- 
ville, he  knew  him  as  well  as  he  knew  his  own  father. 

"  How  is  Ponto  this  morning.^  "  inquired  the  occu- 
pant of  the  four-poster. 

"  In  excellent  spirits,  my  lady." 

"And  his  appetite.?" 

"  He  has  eaten  a  chicken,  my  lady,  with  excellent 
relish." 

"  Humph,"  said  the  occupant  of  the  four-poster, 
"  that  dog  eats  as  much  as  a  Christian." 

In  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Marchbanks  Ponto  ate  more, 
but  he  did  not  say  so.  He  was  content  merely  to 
bow  and  withdraw  with  simple  yet  ample  dignity. 
The  old  lady  read  her  letters  and  glanced  at  the 
Court  Circular,  the  Parliamentary  Report,  and  the 
Money  Market.  She  then  announced  her  intention 
of  getting  up.  Over  the  divers  things  incident  to  this 
complex  process  it  is  doubtless  well  to  draw  the  veil. 
Let  it  suffice  that  an  hour  and  a  half  later  she  reached 


THE  OLD  WOMA]\   OF  HILL  STREET        5 

her  morning-room,  a  veritable  dragon  in  black  silk 
and  a  brown  wig,  leaning  on  an  ebony  walking- 
stick. 

The  normal  condition  of  her  temper  was  severe. 
"  Acidulated  to  the  verge  of  the  morose,"  said  those 
who  had  particular  cause  to  respect  it.  A  consider- 
able, not  to  say  representative  body  they  were.  On 
this  wet  morning  of  the  early  spring,  this  seventy- 
third  annual  commemoration  of  the  most  pregnant 
fact  of  her  experience,  her  temper  was  so  positively 
formidable  that  it  smote  the  officers  of  her  household 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  dismay. 

Various  causes  had  contributed  to  the  state  of  the 
barometer.  For  one  thing  that  impertinent  fellow 
Cheriton  had  issued  his  annual  persiflage  upon  the 
subject  of  her  birthday.  It  fell,  it  appeared,  upon 
the  first  of  April;  a  stroke  of  irony,  in  Cheriton's 
opinion,  for  which  she  had  never  quite  been  able  to 
forgive  her  Creator.  Then,  again,  if  you  came  to  think 
of  it,  what  had  existence  to  offer  an  old  woman  who 
had  so  long  outlived  her  youth ;  who  had  neither  kith 
nor  kin  of  her  own ;  who  bored  her  friends ;  who  ren- 
dered her  dependents  miserable;  who  was  unable  to 
take  exercise ;  who  distrusted  doctors  and  despised  the 
clergy :  a  praiser  of  past  times  who  considered  the 
present  age  all  that  it  ought  not  to  be? 

Why  should  this  old  lady  be  in  a  good  humor  on 
her  seventy-third  birthday.?  She  was  a  nuisance  to 
everybody,  including  herself.  She  was  a  vain  and 
selfish  old  woman,  as  all  the  world  knew.  Yet  even 
she  had  her  points.    Everybody  has  to  have  points  of 


6  ARAMINTA 

some  kind,  else  they  would  never  be  allowed  to  per- 
sist— ^particularly  to  their  seventy-fourth  year. 

For  one  thing  she  was  good  to  her  pug.  Upon  that 
extraordinarily  repulsive  and  overfed  animal  she 
lavished  a  great  deal  of  affection.  Yet  mark  the  in- 
gratitude of  the  canine  race.  How  did  that  mis- 
shapen, dumb,  soulless,  pampered  beast,  whose  figure- 
head was  like  a  gargoyle,  and  whose  eyes  were  so 
swollen  with  baked  meats  that  they  could  scarcely 
revolve,  requite  the  constant  care  and  caresses  of  his 
mistress  .f'  Why,  by  getting  fat.  There  could  be  no 
doubt  about  it  that  Ponto  was  getting  fat. 

Almost  the  first  thing  the  old  woman  did  upon 
what  was  destined  to  prove  one  of  the  most  memorable 
days  of  a  long  and  not  particularly  useful  life,  was  to 
issue  an  edict.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  John,  the 
second  footman,  was  to  exercise  Ponto  for  an  hour 
every  morning  in  Hyde  Park.  The  manner  in  which 
John,  who  himself  consumed  more  than  was  good  for 
a  human  being,  received  the  edict  is  no  concern  of 
ours. 

It  was  about  a  quarter  to  two — at  least  it  was  get- 
ting near  luncheon-time — that  the  rare  event  hap- 
pened from  which  springs  the  germ  of  this  history. 
How  it  came  to  pass  will  never  be  known.  It  is  a 
problem  to  baffle  the  most  learned  doctors  and  the 
most  expert  psychologists.  For  at  about  a  quarter 
to  two,  just  as  Miss  Burden  had  returned  from  a 
visit  to  the  circulating  library,  the  occurrence  hap- 
pened. The  old  lady  of  Hill  Street  was  visited  by 
an  Idea.     To  be  sure  it  did  not  reveal  itself  imme- 


THE  OLD  WOMAN  OF  HILL  STREET        T 

diately  in  that  crude  and  startling  guise.  It  had  its 
processes  to  go  through,  Hke  a  cosmos  or  a  tadpole, 
or  any  other  natural  phenomenon  that  burgeons  into 
entity.  The  evolutions  by  which  it  attained  to  its 
fuUness  were  in  this  wise. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Burden  ?  "  said  the  old 
lady,  fixing  a  cold  eye  upon  the  abashed  blue-backed 
volume  under  the  arm  of  her  gentlewoman. 

"  I  have  been  changing  a  novel  at  Mudie's,"  said 
Miss  Burden. 

"  The    usual    rubbish,  I    suppose,"    said    the    old 
woman,  giving  a  grim  turn  to  her  countenance,  which 
rendered  that  frontispiece  an  admirable  composite  of 
a  hawk  and  a  hanging  judge. 

"  Lord  Cheriton  said  it  was  the  best  novel  he  had 
read  for  years,"  said  Miss  Burden  with  the  gentle  air 
of  one  who  reveres  authority. 

"  Humph,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  Whatever  Cheri- 
ton is,  he  has  taste  at  least.     Give  it  to  me." 

Miss  Burden  handed  the  blue-backed  volume  to 
her  mistress.  The  old  lady  opened  it  warily,  lest  she 
should  come  too  abruptly  upon  a  fine  moral  senti- 
ment. 

"  Man  uses  good  English,"  she  said  suspiciously. 
"  Reminds  one  of  the  man  Disraeli  before  he  made  a 
fool  of  himself  in  politics." 

The  next  thing  that  Miss  Burden  was  aware  of  was 
that  the  old  lady  was  fast  asleep. 

When  Mr.  Marchbanks  came  a  few  minutes  later 
to  announce  that  luncheon  was  ready,  his  mistress, 
with  the  blue-backed  volume  in  her  lap,  was  snoring 


8  ARAMINTA 

lustily.  An  anxious  consultation  followed.  Her 
ladyship  had  not  missed  her  luncheon  for  seventy- 
three  years. 

The  far-seeing  wisdom  of  Miss  Burden — doubtless 
due  In  some  measure  to  her  pure  taste  in  English 
fiction — was  allowed  to  prevail.  The  state  of  the  old 
woman's  temper  could  not  possibly  be  worse  than  It 
had  been  that  morning  If  the  sun  was  to  remain  faith- 
ful to  the  firmament.  If  she  slept  undisturbed  It 
might  conceivably  be  better. 

Miss  Burden  was  justified  of  her  wisdom.  The  old 
lady  missed  her  luncheon  for  the  first  time  In  seventy- 
three  years.  Ideas  come  to  us  fasting;  and  that  Is 
the  only  explanation  there  is  to  offer  of  how  her 
Idea  came  to  be  born. 


CHAPTER    n 

THE    IDEA    WHICH    CAME    TO    HER 

IT  was  a  quarter  to  three  when  the  old  woman 
awoke.  She  was  alone  save  for  Ponto,  her  iidus 
Achates,  who  was  snoring  in  front  of  the  fire  with 
his  tail  curled  up  in  the  most  ridiculous  manner. 
And  yet  she  was  not  alone,  for  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  her  Idea  was  already  born  in  her.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  the  Idea  had  sprung  into 
being,  even  before  she  had  time  to  %urn,  which  she 
did  almost  immediately,  to  the  half-pint  of  claret 
and  the  plate  of  goose  liver  pie  that  Miss  Burden 
and  Mr.  Marchbanks  in  consultation  had  caused  to 
be  laid  beside  her. 

Now  do  not  suppose  that  the  Idea  was  proclaimed 
forthwith  in  its  meridian  splendor.  Nothing  of  the 
kind.  It  was  still  in  its  infancy.  It  had  to  be 
shaped  and  reshaped,  to  be  dandled  and  cosseted, 
to  be  born  and  born  again  in  the  dim  recesses  of  the 
mind,  before  it  gathered  the  requisite  force  to  issue 
as  it  were  from  the  armory  of  Minerva. 

At  four  o'clock  precisely  it  was  the  custom  of  this 
old  lady,  if  the  Hght  and  the  British  climate  per- 
mitted, to  drive  the  whole  length  of  Bond  Street  and 
once  round  Hyde  Park. 

At  that  hour  the  sky  having  cleared  sufficiently 
9 


10  ARAMINTA 

for  the  sun  to  make  a  tardy  and  shamefaced  appear- 
ance, the  old  lady,  accompanied  by  her  faithful 
gentlewoman  and  her  somnolent  four-footed  beast, 
entered  the  equipage  that  was  drawn  up  before  her 
door. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  vehicle.  It  had  yellow 
wheels  and  a  curious  round  body,  which,  according  to 
scale,  was  very  nearly  as  fat  as  Ponto's.  It  was 
perched  up  on  very  high  springs,  and  was  in  the 
forefront  of  the  fashion  about  the  year  1841. 

Mr.  Bryant  and  Mr.  Gregory,  who  shared  the 
box-seat,  would  doubtless  have  been  in  the  forefront 
of  the  fashion  about  the  same  period.  Their  broad 
backs,  their  box-cloth,  the  shape  and  texture  of  their 
hats  and  the  angle  at  which  they  wore  them  unmis- 
takably belonged  to  a  very  early  period  of  the  world's 
history.  No,  they  did  not  wear  side  whiskers.  We 
don't  know  why.  Perhaps  it  was  that  side  whiskers 
were  either  a  little  in  front  or  a  httle  behind  the 
mode  in  1841.  But  it  is  enough  that  Mr.  Bryant 
and  Mr.  Gregory  did  not  wear  them.  And  had  they 
worn  them,  had  the  present  biographer  had  reason 
for  one  single  moment  to  suspect  that  Messrs.  Bryant 
and  Gregory  had  been  in  possession  of  these  append- 
ages, he  would  have  given  up  this  history.  Really 
the  line  has  to  be  drawn  somewhere. 

The  progress  along  Bond  Street  was  at  the  rate  of 
two  miles  an  hour.  The  horses.  Castor  and  Pollux 
by  name,  were  very  fat  and  very  somnolent,  the 
yellow  chariot  was  very  unwieldy,  and  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Constable  X,  who  touched  his  helmet  at 


THE  IDEA  WHICH  CAME  TO  HER        11 

the  corner  of  Hanover  Square,  "  it  took  up  a  deal  o' 
room."  None  the  less  the  progress  of  the  vehicle 
was  almost  royal. 

The  old  lady  sat  very  upright  in  the  center  of  the 
best  seat,  which  she  had  all  to  herself.  With  a  nose 
of  the  Wellington  pattern  and  a  chin  to  match,  dis- 
played under  a  canopy  of  feathers,  she  looked  more 
Hke  a  macaw  than  ever.  Miss  Burden,  in  charge  of 
Ponto  and  a  pair  of  folders  with  a  tortoiseshell 
handle,  was  seated  opposite  at  a  more  modest  eleva- 
tion. 

Every  member  of  the  male  sex  whom  this  redoubt- 
able veteran  chanced  to  meet,  who  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  wear  his  clothes  with  a  sufficient  air  of  dis- 
tinction, received  a  bow  from  her ;  and  in  return  she 
was  the  recipient  of  some  highly  elaborate  and 
wholly  inimitable  courtesies.  With  these  she  ranked 
as  "  an  agreeable  old  woman." 

With  the  members  of  the  other  sex,  which  socially 
the  more  critical,  who  seated  in  their  barouches,  their 
victorias,  their  broughams,  and  their  motors,  who 
inclined  their  own  distinguished  heads  from  under 
their  own  barbaric  canopies,  yet  with  no  vain  striv- 
ings in  the  direction  of  effusiveness,  she  was  greeted 
with  a  half-veiled  hostility  of  the  eyehds,  and  a 
whispered,  "  There  goes  that  old  cat." 

We  offer  no  opinion  on  the  justice  or  the  taste  of 
the  remark.  We  claim  no  learning  in  feminology. 
Why  these  ladies,  each  of  whom  vied  with  the  other 
in  the  propagation  of  good  works,  each  of  whom  was 
an  honored  patroness  of  more  than  one  institution 


12  ARAMINTA 

for  the  amelioration  of  the  human  race,  should  apply 
such  a  figure  of  speech  to  one  who  was  old  and  vener- 
able it  is  not  for  us  to  conjecture. 

Did  they  refer  to  the  quantity  of  feathers  she  was 
wearing  upon  her  helmet?  If  so,  since  April  1,  183-, 
she  had  caused  many  a  beautiful  and  harmless  bird 
to  be  destroyed.  But  then  they  themselves  were 
wearing  similar  great  canopies  of  feathers.  Did  they 
refer  to  her  features.?  We  think  not,  for  although 
her  nose  was  shaped  like  a  talon  of  a  bird  of  prey, 
they  were  not  conspicuously  feline.  Perhaps  it  was 
that  they  referred  to  her  personal  character.  At  any 
rate  they  are  known  to  be  high  authorities  upon  such 
a  matter  as  the  human  character,  and  as  a  rule  are 
very  searching  in  their  judgments.  Certainly  the 
old  lady  proceeding  along  Bond  Street  in  her  yel- 
low chariot  at  the  rate  of  two  miles  an  hour  had  done 
a  fair  amount  of  mischief  in  her  time ;  and  if  health 
and  strength  continued  to  be  vouchsafed  to  her  by 
an  All-wise  Creator,  before  she  died  she  hoped  to  do 
a  good  deal  more. 

In  her  own  little  corner  of  her  own  little  parish 
no  old  lady  was  more  respected.  Where  she  was  not 
respected  she  was  feared,  and  where  she  was  neither 
respected  nor  feared  she  was  very  heartily  hated.  Of 
one  thing  we  are  sure.  There  was  not  a  living  crea- 
ture who  loved  her,  unless  it  was  Ponto,  who  being  a 
creature  without  a  soul  was  denied  the  consolations  of 
religion. 

We  don't  believe  for  a  moment  that  Miss  Burden 
loved  her.    She  had  caused  her  faithful  gentlewoman, 


THE  IDEA  WHICH  CAME  TO  HER        13 

who  in  the  space  of  twenty  years  had  given  all  she 
had  had  of  youth,  beauty,  and  gayety  in  return  for 
board  and  residence  and  forty  pounds  per  annum, 
paid  quarterly,  to  weep  too  many  tears  in  the  pri- 
vacy of  her  chamber  for  such  a  sacred  emotion  as 
love  to  requite  her  persecutor.  Yet  it  is  far  from 
our  intention  to  dogmatize  upon  the  female  heart. 
If  we  do  we  are  sure  to  be  wrong.  That  complex  and 
wonderful  mechanism  has  defeated  us  too  often. 
Therefore  it  is  possible  that  Miss  Burden  hugged  her 
chains  to  her  bosom  and  lavished  the  poetry  pent  up 
in  her  soul  upon  the  hand  that  chastened  her.  We 
say  it  is  possible,  but  we  protest  that  it  is  hardly 
likely.  Yet  do  not  let  us  express  a  positive  opinion 
upon  the  emotional  apparatus  of  even  Miss  Burden, 
who,  whatever  else  she  might  be,  was  a  woman  and  a 
gentlewoman  and  the  thirteenth  daughter  of  a  rural 
dean. 

It  is  really  no  use  trying  to  hide  the  fact  that  the 
old  lady  in  the  yellow  chariot  had  in  the  course  of  her 
seventy-three  summers  wrought  a  great  deal  of 
misery  and  unhappiness  among  her  fellow-creatures. 
Nobody's  reputation  was  safe  in  her  keeping.  She 
never  said  a  kind  word  of  anybody  if  she  could  pos- 
sibly help  it ;  and  although  she  may  have  done  good 
by  stealth  she  very  seldom  did  it  in  the  light  of  day. 
Yet  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Ponto  loved  her  in 
his  dumb  way,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe 
that  Mr.  Marchbanks  respected  her  immensely. 

Proceeding  along  Bond  Street  with  her  Idea — she 
had  not  forgotten    it,    and   you    must  not  forget  it 


14  ARAMINTA 

either — she  continued  to  evolve  that  mysterious  phan- 
tasm in  the  grim  purKeus  of  her  hard  yet  not  capa- 
cious mind.  Sitting  very  upright  in  the  center  of  her 
yellow  chariot,  bleakly  indifferent  to  those  who  did 
not  interest  her,  and  coldly  overlooking  those  who  did, 
this  old  woman  in  her  marvelous  equipage  had  come 
almost  alongside  the  little  shop  on  the  left  going  to- 
wards Piccadilly  where  you  can  get  the  nicest  silk  hat 
in  London,  of  which  we  forget  the  name,  when  she 
beheld  an  apparition. 

It  was  a  Hat.  It  was  of  gray  felt  with  a  dent  in 
the  middle  and  rather  wide  in  the  brims,  of  the  variety 
which  is  called  a  Homburg  because  it  is  worn  at 
Cannes.  Round  this  article  of  masculine  attire,  in 
itself  sufficiently  bizarre,  was  what  is  technically 
known  as  "  a  Guards'  ribbon."  Those  who  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  merits  of  this  decorative  emblem 
will  not  thank  us  for  describing  them ;  while  those  who 
are  not  will  be  unable  to  appreciate  the  special  tex- 
ture of  their  excellence  from  a  mere  categorical  state- 
ment. Let  it  suffice  that  the  old  lady  in  the  yellow 
chariot  beheld  a  Homburg  hat  with  a  Guards'  rib- 
bon approaching  at  the  rate  of  one  mile  an  hour. 

Now  there  was  only  one  individual,  not  in  London 
only,  but  in  the  whole  of  what  at  that  time  ranked  as 
the  civilized  world  (circa  190-),  who  by  any  concat- 
enation of  events  could  possibly  be  seen  walking  in 
Bond  Street  in  a  Homburg  hat  with  a  Guards'  ribbon 
on  April  the  first.  Messrs.  Bryant  and  Gregory  knew 
that  quite  as  well  as  their  mistress.  Therefore,  quite 
naturally  and  properly,  the  yellow  chariot  came  to  a 


THE  IDEA  WHICH  CAME  TO  HER        15 

stand  automatically,  just  as  the  Hat  came  to  a  stand 
also,  immediately  opposite  the  coat  of  arms  on  the 
near  side  panel  of  this  wonderful  equipage,  which  it- 
self was  immediately  opposite  the  little  shop  where 
you  can  get  the  nicest  silk  hat  in  London. 

We  wish  our  readers  could  have  seen  the  manner  in 
which  Mr.  Bryant  and  Mr.  Gregory  each  removed  his 
own  headgear  (circa  1841),  in  an  act  of  homage  to 
the  Hat  of  Hats.  We  feel  sure  it  would  have  recon- 
ciled them  to  a  number  of  things  they  are  likely  to 
find  in  this  history. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  George.^  "  said  the  old  lady. 

Now  that  form  of  salutation  may  mean  much  or  it 
may  mean  little.  With  the  occupant  of  the  yellow 
chariot  it  meant  the  former.  She  only  said,  "  How 
d'ye  do.'^  "  to  the  highest  branch  of  the  peerage. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  George?  "  said  the  occupant  of  the 
yellow  chariot. 

"  Pooty  well  for  an  old  'un,"  said  the  owner  of  the 
Hat  in  a  gruff,  fat  voice. 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  "  said  the  occupant  of  the 
chariot. 

"  Nearly  as  old  as  you,"  said  the  Hatted  one.  Then 
said  he  with  slow  and  gruff  solemnity :  "  Many  happy 
returns  of  your  birthday,  Caroline.  It  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  see  you  looking  so  well." 

"  Thank  you,  George,"  said  the  old  lady  with 
formidable  politeness.  "  Regular  habits  and  a  good 
conscience  are  worth  something  when  you  get  past 
seventy." 

George  Betterton,  Duke  of  Brancaster,  began  to 


16  ARAMINTA 

gobble  like  a  turkey.  He  was  a  heavy -jowled,  purple- 
faced,  apoplectic-looking  individual,  rather  wide  in 
stature  and  extremely  short  in  the  neck.  So  famous 
was  he  for  his  powers  of  emulation  of  the  pride  of  the 
farmyard,  that  he  went  by  the  name  of  "  Gobo  " 
among  his  friends.  As  his  habits  were  not  so  regular 
and  his  conscience  was  not  so  chaste  as  they  might 
have  been,  George  Betterton  grew  redder  in  the  jowl 
than  ever,  and  rolled  his  full-blooded  eyes  at  the  oc- 
cupant of  the  yellow  chariot. 

"  Something  been  crossing  you,  Caroline.^ "  in- 
quired her  old  crony,  in  his  heavy,  slow-witted  way. 

"  Yes  and  no,"  said  the  occupant  of  the  chariot 
with  that  bluntness  of  speech  in  which  none  excelled 
her.  "  Ponto  is  getting  fat,  and  Burden  is  getting 
tiresom.e,  and  Cheriton  has  been  insolent,  and  I  am 
tired  of  life;  but  I  intend  to  hold  on  some  time  yet 
just  to  spite  people.  It  is  all  the  better  for  the  world 
to  have  an  old  nuisance  or  two  in  it." 

This  philanthropic  resolution  did  not  appear  to 
arouse  as  much  enthusiasm  in  George  Betterton  as 
perhaps  it  ought  to  have  done.  All  the  same  he  was 
very  polite  in  his  gruff,  stolid,  John  Bull  manner. 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,  Caroline,"  said  he.  "  We  should 
never  get  on,  you  know,  without  your  old  standards." 

"Rubbish,"  said  the  old  lady  robustly.  "You 
would  only  be  too  pleased  to.  But  you  won't  at  pres- 
ent, so  make  your  mind  easy." 

The  occupant  of  the  yellow  chariot  flung  up  her 
nostrils  as  if  to  challenge  high  heaven  with  a  snuff  of 
scorn. 


THE  IDEA  WHICH  CAME  TO  HER        17 

"  What  are  you  doing  in  London?  "  said  the  old 
lady.    "  That  woman  is  at  Biarritz,  they  tell  me." 

George  Betterton  pondered  a  moment  and  measured 
his  old  friend  with  his  full-blooded  eye. 

"  I've  come  up  to  judge  the  dog  show,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  is  there  a  dog  show.^  "  said  the  old  lady,  upon 
a  note  of  interest  she  seldom  achieved.  "  When  is 
it.?" 

"  A  week  a'  Toosday,"  said  the  owner  of  the  hat. 

We  apologize  to  our  readers,  but  if  you  belong  to 
the  highest  branch  of  the  peerage  you  have  no  need 
to  be  the  slave  of  grammar. 

"  If  I  send  Ponto,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  will  you 
guarantee  him  a  prize.''  " 

"  First  prize,"  said  her  old  friend. 

"  Look  at  him  well  so  that  you  will  know  him  again. 
Burden,  let  the  Dook  look  at  Ponto." 

"  I've  seen  him  so  often,"  said  George  Betterton 
plaintively,  as  that  overfed  quadruped  leered  at  him 
biliously.    "  He's  a  ducky  little  dog." 

"  Don't  forget  that  American  creature  that  Tow- 
caster  married  has  the  effrontery  to  have  one  just 
like  him.  If  you  confuse  him  with  hers  I  shall  not 
forgive  you." 

"  Better  tie  a  piece  o'  bloo  ribbon  round  his  tail," 
said  George. 

His  grace  of  Brancaster  turned  upon  his  heel. 

"  Remember  my  Wednesday,"  the  old  lady  called 
after  him  in  stentorian  tones. 

Whether  George  Betterton  heard  her  or  whether 
he  did  not  it  is  doubtless  well  not  to  inquire.     It  is 


18  ARAMINTA 

rather  a  failing  with  high  personages  that  they  are 
apt  to  be  afflicted  with  a  sudden  and  unaccountable 
deafness.  The  old  lady's  voice  could  be  heard  at  the 
other  side  of  Bond  Street,  but  her  old  acquaintance 
made  no  sign  whatever  that  it  had  penetrated  to  him. 

The  yellow  chariot  moved  on.  Its  occupant,  look- 
ing exceedingly  grim,  and  more  than  ever  like  a  Gor- 
gon or  a  dragon  born  out  of  due  time,  immediately 
proceeded  to  cut  dead  the  inoffensive  widow  of  a 
Baron  in  Equity  who  with  her  two  pretty  daughters 
was  driving  to  the  Grosvenor  Galleries. 

If  there  were  those  who  could  be  deaf  to  her,  there 
were  also  those  to  whom  she  could  be  blind.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  during  the  course  of  her  long 
life  she  had  had  things  far  more  her  own  way  than  is 
good  for  any  human  creature.  But  there  were  now 
those  who  were  beginning  openly  to  rebel  from  her 
despotic  sway.  George  Betterton  was  not  the  only 
person  who  of  late  had  been  afflicted  with  deafness. 

All  the  same,  if  the  aspect  of  this  old  woman  meant 
anything  it  was  that  its  possessor  had  to  be  reckoned 
with.  It  had  often  been  remarked  by  those  of  her 
friends  who  followed  "  the  fancy,"  that  in  certain 
aspects  it  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  that  of  an 
eminent  pugilist.  It  was  a  very  tight  and  hard  and 
arbitrary  mouth,  and  a  general  demeanor  of  per- 
fectly ruthless  sarcasm  that  returned  to  Hill  Street 
at  a  quarter  to  five.  The  rebels  must  be  brought  to 
heel. 

The  redoubtable  Caroline  had  been  home  about  an 
hour,  when  suddenly,  without  any  sort  of  warning. 


THE  IDEA  WHICH  CAME  TO  HER        19 

the  Idea  assumed  an  actual  and  visible  guise.  She 
was  in  the  middle  of  a  game  of  piquet,  a  daily  exer- 
cise, Sundays  excepted,  in  which  she  shov/ed  the 
greatest  proficiency,  which  generally  ended  in  the 
almost  total  annihilation  of  her  adversary.  Having 
"  rubiconed  "  her  gentlewoman,  and  having  mulcted 
her  in  the  sum  of  two  shillings  which  Miss  Burden 
could  ill  afford  to  lose,  her  Idea  burst  from  its  shell 
and  walked  abroad. 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  do  you  remember 
the  name  of  the  person  that  was  married  by  my  sister 
Polly.?" 

Miss  Burden  was  so  much  startled  by  the  question 
that  she  could  not  answer  immediately.  Not  only  was 
its  abruptness  highly  disconcerting,  but  its  nature 
was  even  more  so.     It  dealt  with  one  outside  the  pale. 

"  Per-Perring — Perkins,"  floundered  Miss  Burden. 
It  was  a  name  never  mentioned  in  Hill  Street  upon 
any  pretext  whatever. 

"  Look  it  up  in  Walford." 

Miss  Burden  consulted  that  invaluable  work  of 
reference.  With  some  difficulty  and  many  misgivings 
she  was  presently  able  to  disinter  the  following: — 

Perry  Aloysius,  clerk  in  holy  orders,  master  of 
arts.  Eldest  surviving  son  of  Reverend  John  Til- 
lotson  Perry  and  Maria,  2nd  daughter  of  Mon- 
tague Hawley  esquire.  Bom  1842.  Married 
Mary  Augusta,  younger  daughter  of  Charles 
William  Wargrave,  third  duke  of  Dorset,  and 
Caroline  daughter  of  5th  marquis  of  Twicken- 
ham.    Incumbent   of   Saint   Euthanasius  Slocum 


20  ARAMINTA 

Magna  and  perpetual  curate  of  Widdiford  parish 
church.  Heir  S.,  Richard  Aloysius  Wargrave 
Perry,  clerk  in  holy  orders,  bachelor  of  arts.  Ad- 
dress, The  Parsonage  Slocum  Magna,  North 
Devon. 

When  the  old  lady  had  been  duly  acquainted  with 
these  facts  she  knitted  her  brows,  pondered  deeply 
and  said  "  Humph !  "  A  pause  followed,  and  then  a 
look  of  resolution  settled  upon  her  grim  countenance. 

"  Burden,"  said  she,  "  I  am  going  to  try  an  experi- 
ment.    I  shall  write  to  that  man." 

In  that  apparently  simple  sentence  was  embodied 
the  old  lady's  Idea  in  the  fullness  of  its  splendor.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life  or  in  his  she  deigned  to 
recognize  the  existence  of  the  Reverend  Aloysius 
Perry. 

The  recognition  duly  dictated  to  the  gentlewoman 
assumed  the  following  shape : — 

"  The  Countess  of  Crewkerne  presents  her 
compliments  to  the  Reverend  Perry.  Lady 
Crewkerne  will  he  pleased  to  adopt  a  girl  of  her 
late  sister^s.  Lady  Crewkerne  would  suggest  in 
the  event  of  this  course  being  agreeable  to  the 
Reverend  Perry,  that  the  most  refined  and  man- 
nerly of  her  late  sister* s  children  be  forwarded 
to  her." 

"  Get  my  spectacles.  Burden,"  said  the  old  woman, 
grimly.    "  I  will  read  it  myself." 

It  is  perhaps  too  much  to  say  that  a  tear  stood  in 


THE  IDEA  WHICH  CAME  TO  HER        21 

the  kind  eyes  of  the  gentlewoman  when  she  rose  to 
obey  this  behest.  But  certainly  a  long-drawn  sigh 
escaped  her,  and  the  beating  of  her  heart  was  quick- 
ened. The  coming  of  a  third  person  would  at  least 
help  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  that  establishment. 

The  old  woman  read  her  letter  with  patience  and 
with  cynicism. 

"  It  will  serve,"  said  she.  "  Send  it  immediately." 
And  then,  as  they  say  in  the  best  fiction,  a  strange 
thing  happened.  The  most  natural  and  becoming 
course  for  Miss  Burden  to  take  was  to  ring  the  bell, 
in  order  that  this  curious  document  might  be  dis- 
patched by  a  servant.  But  she  did  not  do  this.  In 
her  own  person  ]\Iiss  Burden  went  forth  of  the  room, 
and  without  waiting  to  put  on  her  hat  she  passed  out 
at  the  hall  door,  and  with  her  own  hand  dropped  the 
letter  in  the  pillar-box  opposite. 


CHAPTER  III 

LORD    CHERITON    LOOKS    IN 

THREE  days  later  there  was  delivered  in  Hill 
Street  a  letter  bearing  the  west-country  post- 
mark. It  was  written  in  narrow,  upright  characters, 
which  seemed  to  bear  a  shade  of  defiance  in  them.  The 
envelope  was  inscribed  with  some  formality  to  the 
Right  Honorable  the  Countess  of  Crewkerne,  yet  its 
shape  was  unfashionable,  the  paper  was  of  inferior 
quality,  and  was  innocent  of  any  sort  of  adornment. 

When  this  document  was  borne  upon  the  silver  dish 
by  Mr.  Marchbanks  to  the  chamber  of  his  aged  mis- 
tress, and  delivered  to  her  in  the  sanctity  of  her  four- 
poster,  there  was  a  slight  flicker  of  the  eyelids  of  that 
elderly  diplomatist.  It  was  as  though  with  the  flair 
that  always  distinguished  him,  he  had  come  to  divine 
that  a  great  event  was  in  the  air. 

The  conduct  of  his  mistress  added  weight  to  this 
theory.  No  sooner  did  she  observe  this  commonplace 
missive  to  be  nestling  among  those  more  ornate  com- 
munications emanating,  as  Mr.  Marchbanks  knew 
perfectly  well,  from  dukes  and  marquises  and  earls, 
and  the  ladies  of  dukes  and  marquises  and  earls,  than 
she  swooped  down  upon  it  for  all  the  world  as  some 
old  eagle  might  have  done  with  outstretched  talon. 
She  read  as  follows : — 

33 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  2S 

The  Revd  Aloysius  Perry  has  the  honor  to 
present  his  compliments  to  the  Countess  of 
Crewkerne,  and  begs  to  say  in  response  to  her 
request  that  he  is  forwarding  to-morrow  {Tues- 
day) per  passenger  train^  his  second  daughter 
Araminta,  who  in  his  humble  judgment  is  the 
most  attractive  of  those  with  which  it  has 
pleased  Providence  to  endow  him. 

The  old  lady,  propped  up  in  her  four-poster,  hon- 
ored this  communication  with  two  readings  and  with 
a  knitted  brow.  She  was  a  very  sharp-witted  old 
woman,  as  we  are  constantly  having  to  remark,  and 
she  could  not  quite  make  up  her  mind  whether  the 
unconventional  flavor  that  clung  to  the  letter  of 
the  man  that  had  been  married  by  her  sister  Polly 
was  the  fruit  of  conscious  irony  or  of  bona  fide 
rusticity. 

"  Humph,"  said  she,  her  invariable  exclamation 
when  in  doubt  about  anything.  "  An  underbred  per- 
son, I  am  afraid." 

She  flung  the  cause  of  her  uncertainty  across  the 
counterpane  to  her  gentlewoman  with  a  contemptuous 
gesture. 

"  It  is  an  experiment,"  said  she.  "  I  dare  say  it 
is  not  wise  for  a  woman  of  my  age  to  add  to  her  re- 
sponsibilities. We  shall  see.  At  any  rate,  Burden, 
you  are  getting  tiresome,  and  Ponto  is  getting 
fat." 

"  I  feel  sure  she  will  be  a  sweet  girl,"  Miss  Burden 
ventured  to  say. 


M  ARAMINTA 

"Why  do  you  think  so?" 

"  Girlhood  is  so  delightful,"  said  Miss  Burden. 
"  All  young  things  are  so  adorable." 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  lady,  ruthlessly,  "  you  are 
a  fool." 

Miss  Burden  blushed  faintly,  as  she  always  did 
when  her  birthright  was  applied  to  her  scornfully. 
Yet  it  was  a  trial  she  had  had  daily  to  endure  for 
many  years  past.  She  had  been  called  a  fool  so  often 
that  she  had  come  to  believe  that  she  was  one.  And 
that  is  the  kind  of  belief  that  renders  the  human  lot 
very  hard.  The  faint  tinge  of  shame  that  dyed  the 
cheek  of  the  poor,  sensitive,  downtrodden  dependent 
was  the  sign  manual  of  something  that  lay  too  deep 
for  tears. 

"  It  is  a  dangerous  experiment,"  said  the  old  lady. 
"  At  my  age  I  ought  to  know  better  than  to  try  ex- 
periments. I  hope  the  creature  will  be  decently 
bred." 

"  Surely,  dear  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  Miss  Bur- 
den, "  a  girl  of  poor  dear  Lady  Augusta's  can  hardly 
fail  to  be  that." 

"  The  father  is  quite  a  common  man ;  a  person  of 
no  particular  family.  And,  unfortunately,  girls  take 
after  their  fathers." 

"  I  feel  sure  the  husband  of  dear  Lady  Augusta  is 
a  gentleman." 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  lady,  ruthlessly,  "  you  are 
a  born  fool.  Ring  the  bell.  It  is  time  I  had  my 
massage." 

During  the  course  of  the  morning  Caroline  Crew- 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  25 

kerne's  oldest  friend  looked  in  to  pass  the  time  of  day 
with  her.     He  stayed  to  luncheon. 

Cheriton  was  one  of  those  men  whose  mission  in 
life  it  is  to  appear  on  all  occasions  and  in  every  sea- 
son as  one  apart  from  the  vulgar  herd.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  he  succeeded  in  this  laudable  ambi- 
tion. His  corsets  were  not  to  everybody's  taste,  and 
there  were  also  those  who  did  not  care  greatly  for 
the  color  of  his  wig  and  the  way  in  which  he  wore  it. 
Its  hue  was  as  the  raven's,  abundant  in  texture  and 
arranged  low  on  the  forehead  in  the  form  of  a  fringe. 
But  Caroline  Crewkerne's  judgment  of  her  old  gossip 
was  the  correct  one.  Whatever  Cheriton  was  or  what- 
ever he  was  not,  emphatically  he  was  not  a  fool.  Had 
he  been  in  any  sort  oppressed  by  that  not  unamiable 
form  of  human  weakness  the  redoubtable  Caroline 
would  have  been  very  quick  to  expose  it.  In  a  mat- 
ter of  that  kind  no  one  could  have  had  a  keener  or 
more  uncompromising  instinct.  They  knew  each 
other  so  well,  they  had  crossed  swords  so  often,  each 
derived  so  much  zest  from  the  display  of  the  other's 
dexterity,  that  while  interpreting  one  another  with  a 
frankness  that  less  robust  persons  might  have 
found  almost  brutal,  it  had  respect  for  a  mutual 
basis. 

To  Cheriton's  credit  let  it  be  written,  he  was  an 
admirer  of  women.  If  they  were  pretty  his  admira- 
tion was  apt  to  increase.  If  a  character  of  quite 
singular  merit  had  its  vulnerable  point — and  I  do  not 
positively  assert  that  it  had — it  was  perhaps  to  be 
found  in  his  dealings  with  the  most  attractive  mem- 


S6  ARAMINTA 

bers  of  what  has  always  been  allowed  to  be  a  most 
attractive  institution. 

To  the  whole  of  that  sex,  however,  it  was  his  wont 
to  be  extraordinarily  polite,  charming,  supple,  and 
attentive.  No  one  could  call  Miss  Burden  supremely 
attractive.  She  had  so  many  things  against  her,  in- 
cluding the  immediate  loss  of  her  place  had  she  de- 
veloped any  special  powers  in  this  direction.  But 
she  had  long  been  Lord  Cheriton's  devoted  slave  and 
adherent.  It  was  merely  the  result  of  his  way  with 
the  whole  of  womankind.  Young  or  old,  fair  or  ugly, 
it  made  no  difference.  An  air  of  deferential  pleasant- 
ness, of  candid  homage  so  lightly  touched  with  sar- 
casm that  it  passed  for  whimsicality,  was  extended 
towards  all  who  bore  the  name  of  woman,  whether  it 
was  Caroline  Crewkerne  herself,  her  penniless  depend- 
ent, or  the  old  flower-seller  at  the  top  of  the  Hay- 
market.  His  grace  of  demeanor  and  his  slightly 
ironical  bonhomie  were  at  the  service  of  each  of  them 
equally. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  Miss  Burden  adored 
Lord  Cheriton.  Not  openly,  of  course,  not  in  the 
broad  light  of  day ;  but  there  can  be  little  doubt  that 
had  the  occasion  ever  arisen  she  would  gladly  have 
yielded  her  life  for  this  handsome,  deferential,  finely 
preserved  nobleman  of  five  and  sixty.  Nor  is  it  a 
matter  to  be  wondered  at.  Although  she  was  a  well- 
read  woman  with  an  excellent  taste  of  her  own,  he 
made  out  her  circulating-library  lists  for  her ;  he  in- 
variably had  a  bunch  of  violets  to  offer  her,  or  any 
other  simple  flower  that  was  in  season ;  he  took  a  gen- 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  27 

uine  interest  in  the  condition  of  her  health;  and 
further  there  was  every  reason  to  suspect  that  in  his 
heart  of  hearts  he  shared  her  intense  dishke  of  Ponto, 
who  had  very  rudimentary  ideas  indeed  of  the  defer- 
ence due  to  Hght-gray  trousers. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  the  old  lady,  as  soon  as  they 
were  seated  at  luncheon,  "  did  you  know  that  George 
Betterton  was  in  London?  " 

The  pair  of  old  gossips  looked  one  another  in  the 
face  with  an  air  of  demure  innocence. 

"  And  she  at  Biarritz,"  said  Cheriton,  musically. 

The  old  lady  bent  across  the  table  with  the  gesture 
of  a  sibyl. 

"  Mark  my  words,"  said  she.  "  The  regime  is  at 
an  end." 

"  I  never  prophesy  in  these  cases,"  said  Cheriton. 
"  She  is  a  very  able  woman,  which  of  course  is  not  sur- 
prising, and  George  is  the  incarnation  of  sheer  stu- 
pidity, which  is  not  surprising  either.  All  the  same, 
Caroline,  I  don't  say  you  are  not  right." 

"  Of  course  I  am  right,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne, 
robustly.  "  And  I  put  it  to  you,  Cheriton,  what  will 
be  the  next  move  upon  the  tapis?  " 

"  George  will  marry,"  said  Cheriton,  tentatively. 

"  Precisely,"  said  the  old  woman,  nodding  her  head 
in  sage  approval. 

"  Have  you  selected  a  duchess  for  him  ?  " 

"Why  do  you  ask?  "  said  the  old  lady,  with  an 
air  of  diplomacy  which  amused  Cheriton,  because  it 
was  so  unnecessary. 

"  I  ask  merely  for  information.    If  I  were  a  sport- 


28  ARAMINTA 

ing  tipster,  Priscilla  Lestrangc  would  be  my  selec- 
tion." 

"  No,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne,  with  immense  de- 
cision, "  a  man  never  marries  a  woman  as  stupid  as 
himself.  Nature's  an  old  fool,  but  she  knows  better 
than  that." 

Cheriton  pondered  this  philosophical  statement 
with  a  sagacious  smile.  Caroline's  air,  however,  was 
so  pontifical  that  it  was  not  for  his  sex  to  dissent 
from  it. 

"  Well,  there  is  a  great  amount  of  stupidity  in  the 
world,"  said  he,  "  and  it  seems  to  be  increasing.  By 
the  way,  was  George  sober?  " 

"  He  was  holding  himself  very  erectly,  and  he  was 
walking  very  slowly." 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  he  wasn't.  But  it  must  be  the 
most  tedious  thing  out  to  spend  one's  life  in  losing 
one's  money  at  cards  and  in  criticising  the  Militia." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  I  share  your  opinion 
that  it  is  time  George  began  to  pay  attention  to  more 
permanent  things." 

"  The  Mihtia  is  always  with  us." 

"  I  meant  spiritual  things,  Cheriton,"  said  Caro- 
line Crewkerne,  whose  day-of- judgment  demeanor 
nearly  choked  his  lordship. 

"  George  Betterton,"  said  he,  "  has  the  spirituality 
of  a  wheelbarrow.  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to 
be  present  when  the  subject  is  mentioned." 

"  He  is  coming  to  my  Wednesday,"  said  the  old 
lady.  "  I  shall  speak  to  him  then.  That  reminds  me 
that  Mary  Ann  Farquhar  says  this  new  Lancashire 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  29 

bishop  eats  his  cheese  in  the  old-fashioned  manner  and 
he  is  now  in  London.  If  I  knew  his  address  I  would 
send  him  a  card." 

"  The  Carlton  Hotel,"  said  Cheriton,  "  is  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Church  in  London." 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  lady,  *'  make  a  note  of 
that." 

With  an  ostentation  that  Caroline  Crewkerne  con- 
sidered wholly  unnecessary,  Cheriton  inscribed  this 
important  contribution  to  sociology  on  the  tablets  of 
the  gentlewoman.  "  What  new  game  is  the  old 
heathen  going  to  play,  I  w^onder.?  "  was  the  question 
that  passed  through  his  mind  as  he  did  so. 

"  What  was  Gobo  doing  in  the  parish.^  "  inquired 
Cheriton.  "  Come  to  worry  the  War  Office  as  usual.?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  he  seemed  more  serious 
than  usual,  but  that  may  have  been  drink.  As  I  am 
showing  Ponto  at  the  dog  show  on  Tuesday  week, 
George  has  consented  to  award  the  prizes.  I  have 
chosen  a  silver  collar  with  his  name  inscribed  suitably. 
I  don't  know  anything  more  becoming  than  a  silver 
collar  for  a  dog  of  Ponto's  type." 

"  I  am  afraid  it's  a  job ;  and  don't  forget,  my  dear 
Caroline,  the  last  one  you  perpetrated  did  no  good  to 
the  country." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Cheriton  ?  "  said  the  old  lady, 
with  her  bristles  going  up  like  a  badger.  "  Have  the 
goodness  to  explain  your  meaning." 

"  That  boy  from  Eton — your  'protege — ^whom  you 
sent  out  to  South  Africa  to  command  a  brigade,  made 
a  dooce  of  a  hash  of  it,  they  tell  me." 


30  ARAMINTA 

"  That  is  a  lie,  Cheriton,  and  you  know  it,"  said 
the  old  lady,  whose  voice  quivered  so  much  with  pas- 
sion that  it  frightened  Miss  Burden  considerably. 
"  Poor  dear  Arthur  once  told  me  himself  that  the 
battle  of  Waterloo  was  won  on  the  playing-fields  of 
Eton." 

"  It  is  your  thoughtlessness,  my  dear  Caroline,  in 
taking  for  gospel  the  senile  speeches  of  an  old  fogy 
who  lived  far  longer  than  he  ought  to  have  done,  that 
has  so  nearly  cost  us  a  continent.  The  playing-fields 
of  Eton  forsooth !  " 

"  Cheriton,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  I  despise  you." 

The  light  of  battle  was  in  her  eye.  It  is  hardly 
correct  to  speak  of  their  crossing  swords.  The 
weapons  they  used  were  cudgels,  in  the  use  of  which 
they  were  very  expert. 

Miss  Burden  was  not  a  little  shocked  and  af- 
frighted. But  she  had  witnessed  so  many  exhibitions 
of  a  similar  character  between  these  combatants,  who 
fully  enjoyed  a  rough  and  tumble  whenever  they  met, 
that  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  the  gentlewoman's 
fear  was  not  in  the  nature  of  a  pleasant  emotion.  It 
seems  to  be  right  and  proper  that  a  gentlewoman 
shall  derive  a  legitimate  pride  from  being  shocked  and 
affrighted.  At  least  it  used  to  be  so  in  that  bright 
and  glad  heyday  of  decorum  before  some  person  un- 
known invented  a  hockey  stick  to  beat  out  the  brains 
of  female  sensibility. 

It  was  not  until  they  were  drinking  coffee  in  the 
seclusion  of  her  ladyship's  boudoir  that  peace  was 
restored  between  the   combatants.     They  had  both 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  31 

appeared  to  advantage,  for  they  had  had  long  prac- 
tice in  all  kinds  of  verbal  warfare.  Cheriton's 
phrases,  by  long  association  with  the  great  world, 
were  as  direct  as  possible.  He  called  a  spade  a  spade, 
but  his  manner  of  so  doing  was  extremely  charming. 
Miss  Burden  thought  his  most  incisive  speeches  were 
full  of  melody.  As  for  Caroline  Crewkerne,  she  was 
the  sharpest-tongued  old  woman  in  London.  And  the 
least  scrupulous,  said  the  very  considerable  body  who 
had  been  flayed  by  it. 

Peace  restored,  the  old  lady  made  an  abrupt  sug- 
gestion. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 
it  is  time  you  settled  down.   You  ought  to  marry." 

"  Cherchez  la  femme,"  said  Cheriton,  with  a  light- 
ness of  tone  that  ill  became  him. 

"  If  you  will  place  the  matter  in  my  hands,"  said 
Caroline  Crewkerne,  "  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  what  I 
can  for  you." 

"  I  am  overwhelmed." 

"  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton,"  said  Carohne, 
sharply.  "  Let  us  take  a  broad  view  of  the  subject 
and  let  us  place  it  on  a  matter-of-fact  basis.  I  re- 
peat, in  my  opinion  you  ought  to  marry." 

"  Pourquoi?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  the  old  woman,  ruth- 
lessly, "  you  are  not  quite  what  you  were.  Five-and- 
sixty  is — well,  five-and-sixty.  It  is  no  use  disguising 
the  fact  that  young  and  attractive  women  are  a  little 
inclined  to  smile  at  you." 

Cheriton  writhed.      Rather  pitifully  he  raised  a 


32  ARAMINTA 

hollow  guffaw.  It  was  perhaps  the  worst  thing  he 
could  have  done  in  the  circumstances ;  but  the  poor 
butterfly,  when  the  pin  is  throu^^li  its  middle,  is  prone 
to  augment  its  own  tortures  by  twisting  its  body  and 
flapping  its  wings.  Caroline  Crewkerne  smiled 
grimly. 

"  The  fact  is,  Cheriton,"said  she,"  you  have  grown 
already  a  little  passe  for  the  role  of  Phoebus  Apollo. 
Understand  the  phrase  is  not  mine.  It  was  whispered 
in  my  ear  by  an  insolent  girl  who  looks  upon  you  in 
the  light  of  a  grandfather." 

Cheriton  mopped  his  perspiring  features  with  a 
yellow  silk  handkerchief.  He  conducted  this  opera- 
tion very  delicately  because  his  cheeks  were  flushed 
with  a  carmine  that  was  apt  to  run  all  over  the 
place. 

"  I  have  heard  a  complaint  of  your  mustache," 
said  his  old  friend.  "  In  my  opinion  it  requires  care- 
ful treatment.  At  present  it  does  not  harmonize  witli 
your  general  scheme  of  color.  When  did  you  dye  it 
last.?" 

"  The  same  day  on  which  you  last  dyed  your  hair, 
my  dear  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  rather  laboriously. 
"  As  they  both  belong  to  the  same  period,  I  thought 
it  right  to " 

"  Don't  explain  at  length,"  said  Caroline.  "  I  dye 
my  hair  weekly.  But  what  I  want  to  point  out  to 
you  is  this.  In  my  opinion  it  is  quite  time  you  were 
married.  You  are  rich.  It  is  almost  a  national  scan- 
dal that  there  is  no  entertaining  at  Cheriton  House; 
and  the  title  reverts  to  a  branch  of  the  family  you 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  33 

don't  esteem.  Surely  there  is  to  be  found  in  the 
world  some  youngish  person  of  modest  attractions — 
do  not  delude  yourself,  Cheriton,  that  you  can  ask 
for  more — to  whom  you  can  offer  a  vocation." 

"  There  is  a  little  actress  at  the  Gayety,"  said 
Cheriton,  thoughtfully.  "  She  seems  a  healthy  crea- 
ture.    I  dare  say  she " 

"  Burden,  quit  the  room,"  said  the  old  lady. 

Blushing  like  a  peony  and  trembling  like  an  aspen 
— a  double  feat  of  which  gentlewomen  nurtured  in 
the  best  Victorian  traditions  were  always  capable — 
Miss  Burden  obeyed. 

Cheriton  closed  the  door. 

"  Yes,  I  dare  say  she  would,"  said  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne,  with  her  hanging- judge  demeanor.  "  All  the 
same,  Cheriton,  you  talk  like  a  fool." 

What  Caroline  Crewkerne  said  to  Cheriton,  and 
what  Cheriton  said  to  Caroline  Crewkerne,  I  shall  not 
set  down.  The  plain  truth  is,  I  dare  not.  She  was 
a  survival  of  a  famous  aristocracy  which  was  never 
accustomed  to  mince  its  language.  She  had  always 
been  used,  as  her  Georgian  forbears  had  before  her, 
to  call  a  spade  a  spade.  It  was  a  mark  of  caste.  And 
Cheriton,  too,  beneath  his  superficial  airs  and  dandi- 
fied graces,  which  had  earned  for  him  the  title  of 
"  the  last  of  the  macaronis,"  which  really  meant  noth- 
ing at  all,  had  a  strain  of  the  most  uncompromising 
frankness. 

Really  I  must  apologize  to  my  readers  for  these 
two  old  and  hardened  worldlings.  I  hope  they  will 
make  all  the  allowance  that  is  possible,  for  whatever 


84  ARAMINTA 

the  pretensions  of  one  of  them,  neither  was  inclined 
to  view  the  great  institution  we  call  Woman  at  all 
romantically.  Cheriton  would  certainly  have  rebutted 
the  charge  with  scorn,  but  none  the  less  it  is  perfectly 
just.  His  affectation  of  delicacy  w^as  only  skin  deep. 
Had  a  third  person  overheard  their  conversation  with- 
out being  furnished  with  the  key  to  it,  he  would  have 
concluded  that  it  had  to  do  with  the  bringing  into 
the  world  of  a  pedigree  horse,  a  thoroughbred  dog,  a 
prize  cow,  or  a  speckled  rhinoceros.  And  he  must 
have  wondered  how  it  was  that  two  persons  who  had 
obviously  moved  in  good  society  from  their  youth  up, 
could  sit  tete-a-tete  in  a  beautiful  room  in  one  of  the 
most  fashionable  thoroughfares  in  all  London,  dis- 
coursing with  remarkable  point  and  gusto  upon  a 
subject  which  would  have  befitted  a  couple  of  yokels 
in  a  farmyard. 

"  There's  my  niece,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne. 

"  Have  you  a  niece.?  "  said  Cheriton. 

"  A  girl  of  Polly's.     You  remember  Polly  ?  " 

*'  Polly  was  a  very  plain  woi\ian,"  said  Cheriton, 
slowly.  "  I  think,  take  her  altogether,  she  was  the 
plainest  woman  I  ever  saw." 

"  It  is  odd,"  said  Caroline,  "  that  I  had  all  the 
good  looks  as  well  as  all  the  brains.  It  made  life  so 
difficult  for  Polly.  Yet  I  think  her  heart  was  better 
than  mine." 

"  Yes,  Caroline,  I  think  so,"  said  Cheriton,  assent- 
ing gracefully.  "  But  I  don't  seem  to  remember 
Polly's  marriage." 

"  It  was  not  a  marriage." 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  35 

"  No? "  said  Cheriton,  with  a  sudden  access  of 
interest  which  was  open  to  misinterpretation. 

"  Polly  married  the  village  curate,  who  hadn't  a 
shilling." 

"  Poor  devil." 

"  To  which  of  the  contracting  parties  do  you  re- 
fer.'^ "  said  Caroline,  incisively. 

"  Must  have  been  a  poor  devil  if  he  hadn't  a 
sliilling." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Caroline,  "  the  Family  never 
forgave  her.  Dearest  papa  forbade  her  the  neigh- 
borhood. He  might  have  forgiven  the  village,  and 
he  might  have  forgiven  the  curacy,  but  he  could  not 
forgive  the  shilling." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Cheriton.  "  But  I've  known 
parsons'  daughters  turn  out  very  well  before  now. 
I've  seen  one  or  two  who  looked  capital  in  the  Gayety 
chorus.     What's  the  age  of  the  gal.^  " 

"  Nineteen." 

"  An  alluring  period.  Has  she  a  good  disposi- 
tion.? " 

"  She  is  my  niece,"  said  Caroline,  with  admirable 
succinctness. 

"  I  shall  come  and  see  her.  When  is  she  on 
view.?" 

Caroline  Crewkerne  enfolded  herself  in  her  mantle 
of  high  diplomacy.  She  paused  to  measure  Cheriton 
with  that  hawk-like  eye  of  hers. 

"  A  month  to-morrow." 

"  Capital,"  said  Cheriton. 

He  rose  at  his  leisure. 


36  ARAMINTA 

"  So  long,  Caroline,"  said  he.  "  It  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  find  you  so  fit." 

Caroline  gave  him  a  withered  talon. 

"  Get  another  wig,"  said  she.  "  And  consult  a 
specialist  about  your  mustache." 

"  What,  for  a  parson's  daughter !  " 

"  A  duke's  granddaughter,"  said  the  imperious 
Caroline. 

"  I'm  damned  if  I  do,"  said  Cheriton,  amiably. 

"  You  are  damned  if  you  don't,"  said  Caroline, 
making  the  obvious  retort  which  is  so  apt  to  be  mis- 
taken for  wit,  and  fixing  an  eye  upon  him  that  was 
positively  arctic.  "  That  is,  if  the  creature  is  worth 
her  salt." 

"  You  are  doubtless  correct,  Caroline,"  said  Cher- 
iton, with  the  air  of  a  man  who  made  a  god  of  rea- 
son. "  You  have  a  good  head.  If  only  your 
heart !  " 

With  a  bow  and  a  smile,  which  had  wrought  great 
havoc  in  their  time,  although  to  some  they  had  a 
certain  pathos  now,  Cheriton  withdrew.  He  pointed 
a  course  towards  a  famous  shop  at  the  corner  of 
Burlington  Gardens. 

"  It  is  quite  true  what  they  say,"  this  nobleman  of 
distinguished  appearance  and  open  manners  might 
have  been  heard  to  mutter  to  high  heaven,  as  he  gazed 
upwards  to  inquire  of  Jove  whether  he  intended  to 
ruin  his  hat.  "  She  is  the  most  disagreeable  old 
woman  in  London." 

However,  there  is  always  the  reverse  of  the  medal, 
the  other  side  to  the  picture.    This  handsome,  courtly 


LORD  CHERITON  LOOKS  IN  37 

and  carefully-preserved  specimen  had  been  somewhat 
badly  mauled  no  doubt  by  the  old  lioness.  But  had 
he  been  endowed  with  eyes  in  the  back  of  his  head,  or 
been  gifted  with  some  occult  faculty,  he  would  have 
found  a  salve  for  his  wounds.  For  his  exit  from  the 
house  in  Hill  Street  was  marked  by  a  mildly  ascetic 
form  which  was  efficiently  and  discreetly  veiled  amid 
the  curtains  of  the  dining-room  windows.  Could  he 
have  been  conscious  of  the  eyes  that  were  concentrated 
upon  the  back  of  his  gracefully  erect  and  faultlessly 
tailored  exterior ;  could  he  by  some  special  process  of 
the  mind  have  ravished  the  secrets  of  that  chaste  yet 
susceptible  bosom,  he  would  have  been  assured  that  it 
is  not  always  necessary  to  invoke  the  black  arts  of  the 
perruquier  to  recommend  one's  self  to  the  mind  and 
heart  of  a  Christian  gentlewoman.  Had  Lord  Cher- 
iton  cut  off  his  mustache  as  a  Lenten  sacrifice — 
which  we  regret  to  say  was  not  at  all  likely,  as  there 
is  reason  to  fear  he  did  not  respect  the  Church  suffi- 
ciently to  contemplate  such  a  course  of  action — or  had 
he  been  as  bald  as  an  egg,  which  Caroline  Crewkerne 
declared  he  certainly  was,  within  the  sanctity  of  Miss 
Burden's  breast  there  would  still  only  have  reigned 
the  image  of  one  perfect  man,  of  one  true  prince. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ARRIVAL    OF    THE    FIRST    CAUSE    OF    ALL    ROMANCE 

WRAPPED  in  these  reflections  that  we  have 
dared  to  disclose,  Miss  Burden  was  oblivious 
of  the  fact  that  an  old  woman  leaning  upon  an  ebony 
stick,  and  accompanied  by  the  roundest  of  all  pos- 
sible dogs,  with  the  curliest  of  all  possible  tails,  had 
entered  the  room.  With  a  somewhat  cruel  abrupt- 
ness she  was  made  aware  of  that  fact. 

"  Burden,  don't  be  a  fool,"  said  a  voice  that  was 
full  of  hard  sarcasm.  "  Come  away  from  that  win- 
dow immediately." 

In  dire  confusion  Miss  Burden  endeavored  to  dis- 
entangle herself  from  the  folds  of  the  window 
curtains. 

"  That  man  is  as  hollow  as  a  drum,"  said  the  old 
woman,  with  a  comprehensive  wave  of  her  walking- 
stick,  "  and  as  vain  as  a  peacock.  Where  is  your 
self-respect.  Burden  "^  A  person  of  your  age,  position, 
and  appearance — it  is  indecent." 

Miss  Burden  was  prepared  to  swoon.  Fifty  years 
earlier  in  the  world's  history  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve she  would  have  done  so.  But  even  the  emo- 
tional apparatus  of  a  Christian  gentlewoman  is  sus- 
ceptible to  streams  of  tendency.  Swoons  are  seldom 
indulged  in  in  these  days  by  the  best  and  most  sensi- 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  OF  ALL  ROMANCE    39 

tive  people.  Therefore  Miss  Burden  was  content  to 
blush  guiltily,  to  droop  her  head,  and  to  hoist  a 
hunted  look  in  her  mild  gray  eyes  that  was  really 
charming. 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  woman,  sternly,  "  where  is 
your  list  for  the  circulating  library?  I  shall  have  to 
supervise  your  reading.  It  is  exercising  a  pernicious 
influence  upon  your  mind  and  character." 

Miss  Burden  produced  the  list  from  the  recesses  of 
the  small  v»'allet  which  she  bore  suspended  from  her 
waist. 

"  Precisely  as  I  thought,"  said  the  old  lady,  with 
a  snort.  "  Novels,  novels,  novels !  And  by  male 
writers.  For  some  time  past.  Burden,  it  has  been 
plain  to  me  that  an  influence  has  been  at  work  which 
has  been  undermining  your  sense  of  delicacy.  '  The 
Ordeal  of  Richard  F^'everel,'  by  George  Meredith. 
Cross  it  out.  Substitute  Mrs.  Turner's  '  Cautionary 
Stories.'  '  The  Dolly  Dialogues,'  by  Anthony  Hope. 
Cross  it  out.  Substitute  '  The  ^leditations  of  Mar- 
cus Aurelius.'  *  An  Old  Maid's  Love  Story,'  by 
Anon.  Cross  it  out.  Substitute  '  The  Pleasures  of 
Life,'  by  Lord  Avebury.     '  L'Abbe  Constantin,'  by 

!    Cross  it  out.     Burden,  I  forbid  you  to  read 

French  authors  until  the  end  of  May." 

Having  issued  this  Draconian  edict,  this  tyrant, 
over  whose  head  three  and  seventy  winters  had 
already  passed,  left  her  gentlewoman  impaled  hap- 
lessly upon  the  two-spiked  thorn  of  shame  and  con- 
fusion. She  proceeded  to  indulge  in  her  daily  siesta, 
which    advancing    years    rendered    more    than    ever 


40  ARAMINTA 

necessary  if  her  store  of  natural  energy  was  to  re- 
main equal  to  the  demands  which  were  made  upon  it. 

At  four  o'clock,  as  I  think  I  have  told  you  already, 
it  was  the  old  lady's  custom,  if  the  v/eather  was  fa- 
vorable, to  take  the  air  in  her  yellow  chariot.  Upon 
this  momentous  day,  however,  the  elements  were  ad- 
verse ;  and  at  twenty-seven  minutes  past  four,  by  the 
clock  in  the  blue  drawing-room,  she  was  to  be  found 
in  that  spacious,  somber,  yet  magnificent  apartment. 
She  was  wearing  her  second-best  turban,  a  black  silk 
dress,  and  a  collar  of  priceless  old  lace,  secured  by  a 
brooch  which  was  said  to  have  been  given  to  an  an- 
cestress by  good  Queen  Elizabeth,  who,  for  reasons 
of  state,  afterwards  cut  off  the  head  of  the  recipient. 
Enthroned  before  a  silver  teapot  and  twelve  Crown 
Derby  teacups,  with  a  monogram  upon  the  bottom, 
prepared  to  offer  some  very  weak  tea  and  some  stale 
bread  and  butter  to  a  number  of  persons  who  were 
not  in  the  least  likely  to  appear  to  claim  it,  she  pre- 
sented as  formidable  a  figure  as  any  to  be  found  in 
London. 

I  lay  stress  upon  the  time — twenty-seven  minutes 
past  four — for  that  is  the  hour  at  which  this  history 
really  begins.  Then  it  was  that  a  four-wheeled  ve- 
hicle of  a  rapidly  disappearing  type  drew  up  before 
the  imposing  front  door  of  the  house  in  Hill  Street. 
Upon  the  roof  of  the  "  growler  "  was  a  dilapidated 
wooden  box,  insecurely  tied  v/ith  a  cord  which  had 
been  pieced  in  three  places.  And  seated  modestly 
enough  in  its  interior  was — well,  the  First  Cause  of 
All  Romance. 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  OF  ALL  ROMANCE    41 

I  cannot  say  more  than  that.  There  she  was.  The 
first  thing  appertainmg  to  her  that  was  projected 
from  the  dim  recesses  of  the  "  growler  "  was  her 
straw  hat.  Now,  as  I  think  I  have  already  observed, 
there  is  a  great  deal  in  a  hat.  They  are  full  of  char- 
acter— straw  hats  especially.  And  as  it  is  the  duty 
of  a  historian  to  extenuate  nothing,  it  has  to  be  said 
that  this  was  a  preposterous  hat  altogether.  In  the 
first  place,  its  dimensions  were  certainly  remarkable ; 
it  flopped  absurdly ;  there  was  a  sag  of  the  brims 
which  was  irresistibly  impossible ;  while  as  for  the  gen- 
eral condition  and  contour  of  the  hat,  the  less  said 
upon  that  subject  the  better. 

In  general  shape,  design,  and  texture,  this  prim- 
itive article  was  more  like  an  inverted  vegetable  bas- 
ket than  anything  else.  Unmistakably  rustic,  even  in 
its  prime,  it  was  now  old,  discolored,  and  misshapen ; 
and  the  piece  of  black  ribbon  that  had  adorned  it  in 
its  youth  was  really  not  fit  for  the  West  End  of 
London.  Purchased  of  the  general  outfitter  of 
Slocum  Magna  for  the  sum  of  one  and  elevenpence 
halfpenny  in  the  spring  of  1900,  I  am  not  concerned 
to  deny  that  it  was  as  rudimentary  a  form  of  head- 
gear as  was  ever  devised  by  the  very  remote  district 
to  which  it  owed  its  being.  It  had  absolutely  no 
business  at  all  in  that  chaste  thoroughfare  which  for 
many  years  past  has  been  dedicated  to  the  usage  of 
fashion. 

I  am  taking  up  a  lot  of  time  over  the  hat,  although 
I  am  aware  that  my  readers  are  saying,  "  Bother 
the  hat !    Tell  us  what  is  underneath  it."     Precisely. 


42  ARAMINTA 

All  in  good  time.  But  it  is  my  duty  to  set  down 
things  in  the  exact  order  they  emerged  from  the  dim 
recesses  of  the  "  growler."  The  inverted  vegetable 
basket  was  the  first  to  emerge  undoubtedly.  And  then 
came  the  tip  of  a  chin.  It  was  inclined  at  a  furtive 
angle  of  feminine  curiosity.  Although  only  the  ex- 
treme tip  of  it  was  visible,  the  preposterous  headgear 
which  overshadowed  it  really  ought  not  to  be  men- 
tioned on  the  same  page  with  it.  For  there  can  be 
no  question  that  the  chin  was  the  work  of  a  very 
great  Artist  indeed. 

The  cabman  came  down  from  his  perch.  He  was 
a  veteran,  with  an  extremely  red  visage,  and  a  gen- 
eral look  of  knowledge  which  he  had  a  perfect  right 
to  assume. 

"  You  are  'ere,  miss,"  said  he,  as  he  opened  the 
door  of  the  "  growler  "  with  a  spacious  air  which 
almost  suggested  that  he  was  the  ground  land- 
lord of  the  whole  of  the  West  End  of  London. 
"  You  would  like  the  portmanter  down,  wouldn't 
you?" 

"  Yes,  please,"  drawled  a  friendly  voice  from 
within. 

While  the  cabman,  with  great  ceremony  and  an 
immense  display  of  exertion,  was  lifting  the  corded 
box  from  the  roof,  the  owner  of  the  inverted  vegeta- 
ble basket  emerged  from  the  "  growler,"  marched  up 
the  steps  of  the  Right  Honorable  the  Countess  of 
Crewkerne's  town  residence,  and  rang  a  loud  peal 
upon  the  front-door  bell. 

The  front  door  was  opened  immediately  by  no  less 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  OF  ALL  ROMANCE    43 

a  person  than  John,  who  was  rather  inchned  to  expect 
a  duchess.  John  devoted  the  greater,  the  more  se- 
rious portion  of  his  Hfe  to  the  expectation  of 
duchesses.  And  with  his  imperturbable  mien,  his 
somewhat  superciHous  eyes,  and  his  superb  suit  of 
Hvery,  which  did  infinite  credit  to  the  most  exclusive 
firm  in  Savile  Row,  no  man  on  this  planet,  whatever 
point  they  have  reached  in  Mars,  w^as  better  fitted  to 
receive  one. 

John  was  taken  aback.  By  an  inexcusable  over- 
sight on  the  part  of  the  powers  that  obtained  in  Hill 
Street,  the  personal  retainers  of  the  Right  Honorable 
the  Countess  of  Crewkerne  had  not  been  informed 
that  her  ladyship  expected  her  niece.  No  carriage 
had  been  sent  to  meet  her.  The  fact  w  as  that  the  old 
lady  expected  her  on  the  following  day.  Whether 
the  Reverend  Aloysius  Perry  had  expressed  himself 
obscurely,  or  whether  Lady  Crewkerne  and  her  gen- 
tlewoman had  read  his  letter  carelessly,  is  a  problem 
not  easy  to  solve.  But  there  the  matter  stood.  The 
fair  visitor  from  Slocum  Magna  in  the  middle  of 
Dartmoor,  North  Devon,  was  not  in  the  least  ex- 
pected, and  John  was  taken  aback. 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  recover,  however,  for 
his  natural  self-possession  was  considerable,  and  he 
was  a  man  of  the  world.  Almost  immediately  he  be- 
gan to  subject  the  invader  to  a  very  severe  scrutiny. 
He  began  with  the  crov/n  of  her  hat.  To  say  the 
least,  the  beginning  was  very  unfortunate.  From  the 
hat  his  hostile  gaze  passed  to  a  very  rustic-looking 
cloak  which  had  a  hood  to  it.    If  there  was  one  thing 


44  ARAMINTA 

that  John  despised  more  than  another,  it  was  a  cloak 
with  a  hood. 

Then  the  frock  underneath !  It  was  a  sort  of  Hlac 
print  arrangement,  faded  in  places,  and  completely 
outgrown  by  its  wearer,  who — whisper  it  not  in  Bond 
Street ! — stood  exactly  six  feet  in  her  stockings.  As 
the  intelligent  reader  will  doubtless  surmise,  the  skirt 
of  this  nondescript  garment  displayed  a  great  deal 
more  ankle  than  is  considered  correct  in  the  metrop- 
olis. And  such  ankles !  Yet  the  boots  which  adorned 
them  may  have  made  them  appear  worse  than  they 
really  were.  The  village  cobbler  at  Slocum  Magna 
has  always  been  allowed  to  be  a  conscientious  and 
painstaking  craftsman,  but  it  is  very  doubtful 
whether  he  will  ever  be  awarded  a  diploma  for  his 
skill  in  the  higher  graces  of  his  calling.  The  ankles 
of  the  fair  visitor  were  encased  in  the  stoutest,  most 
misshapen  pair  of  laced-up  boots  John  had  ever  seen 
in  his  life. 

Further,  John's  eye  fell  upon  a  pair  of  gloves 
which  in  his  opinion  were  all  that  a  pair  of  gloves 
should  not  be.  They  were  made  of  black  cotton  and 
were  very  freely  darned;  and,  as  if  this  were  not 
enough,  the  right  glove  was  clasped  round  the  handle 
of  a  wicker  basket  of  a  dreadfully  rural,  not  to  say 
common,  character.  The  lid,  which  was  secured  by  a 
piece  of  string,  had  a  great  air  of  uncertainty  about 
it.  At  any  moment  it  threatened  to  give  way  to  the 
weight  it  had  to  bear.  And  as  if  all  these  unlucky 
details  did  not  themselves  suffice,  there  was  a  "  grow- 
ler "  immediately  opposite  the  sacred  precincts ;  while 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  OF  ALL  ROMANCE    45 

at  that  very  moment  a  red-faced  and  festive-looking 
cabman  was  toiling  up  the  steps  with  a  dilapidated 
wooden  box,  tied  by  a  cord  which  had  been  pieced  in 
three  places. 

In  the  circumstances  there  was  only  one  thing  for 
John  to  do.  This  John  did  with  great  energy  and 
conviction.     He  sniffed. 

At  almost  the  same  moment  a  perfectly  ludicrous 
drawl  assailed  his  ears. 

"  Does  Aunt  Caroline  live  here,  please.'^  "  said  the 
occupant  of  the  doorstep. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  John  was  nonplused 
by  the  question. 

"  This  is  the  residence  of  the  Countess  of  Crew- 
kerne,"  said  he  with  hauteur. 

Unhappily,  the  effect  of  this  announcement  was 
marred  by  the  officious  behavior  of  the  cabman.  That 
worthy  was  oppressed  by  no  sense  of  embarrassment. 
With  a  wheeze  and  a  grunt  which  were  wholly  un- 
necessary, because  the  box  contained  so  little,  he  made 
his  way  past  its  owner  with  ostentatious  heaviness, 
and  was  about  to  bring  it  into  forcible  contact  with 
John's  best  suit  of  livery,  when  the  custodian  of  the 
portals  realized  that  it  y\^as  a  time  for  action. 

"  Don't  bring  it  in,"  said  he,  sternly.  "  Stay  where 
you  are.     I  will  make  inquiries." 

With  a  glance,  not  to  the  cabman  onl}^,  but  to  the 
wearer  of  the  inverted  vegetable  basket  also,  which 
intimated  that  they  crossed  that  threshold  upon  peril 
of  their  lives,  John  turned  upon  his  heel.  He  walked 
r.cross  the  entrance-hall  to  confer  with  his  chief,  who 


46  ARAMINTA 

of  course  was  no  less  a  personage  than  Mr.  March- 
banks  himself. 

The  conference  was  grave,  but  it  was  brief.  Mr. 
Marchbanks  came  forward  in  his  own  inimitable 
manner,  only  to  find  that  the  fair  intruder,  prepos- 
terous hat,  hooded  cloak,  cobbled  boots,  darned 
gloves  and  all,  had  had  the  temerity  to  enter. 

I  do  not  say  positively  that  Mr.  Marchbanks 
frowned  upon  her;  but  certainly  he  looked  very  ma- 
jestic; and  it  is  my  deliberate  judgment  that  had 
you  searched  the  length  and  breadth  of  Mayf  air  it 
would  have  been  impossible  to  find  a  more  imposing 
man  than  he.  His  nose  was  like  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington's, and  it  was  known  that  his  demeanor  was 
modeled  upon  that  of  that  renowned  hero  and  patriot. 
In  his  cutaway  morning-coat  and  spotless  shirt-front, 
and  his  great  Gladstone  collar,  purchased  at  the 
same  shop  as  was  affected  by  that  distinguished 
statesman,  with  his  black-bow  tie  and  his  patrician 
features,  he  might  just  as  well  have  been  prime  min- 
ister of  these  realms  as  merely  the  butler  to  old  Lady 
Crewkerne. 

I  lay  particular  stress  upon  these  facts,  and  I 
want  all  my  feminine  readers  to  make  an  especial  ef- 
fort to  comprehend  them,  because  the  behavior  of  the 
Heroine  was  such  as  has  never  previously  been  of- 
fered to  the  public  in  a  work  of  this  character. 

She  attempted  to  shake  hands  with  the  butler. 

In  a  measure  John  was  to  blame.  He  approached 
Mr.  Marchbanks  so  reverently,  he  addressed  him  with 
such  an  air  of  deference,  that  the  artless  intruder 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  OF  ALL  ROMANCE    47 

might  almost  be  pardoned  for  jumping  to  the  con- 
clusion that  Mr.  Marchbanks  was  a  marquis  uncle 
whom  she  had  never  heard  of  before.  At  any  rate, 
no  sooner  had  the  finely  chiseled  profile  of  Mr. 
Marchbanks  confronted  her  than  the  creature  of  the 
straw  hat  tucked  the  wicker  basket  under  her  left 
arm,  and  thrust  out  her  right  hand  with  a  spasmodic 
suddenness  which  dumfounded  Mr.  Marchbanks 
completely. 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  hope  you  are 
quite   well." 

Mr.  Marchbanks  did  exactly  what  you  would  ex- 
pect him  to  do.  He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 
height.  Yet  there  was  no  confusion  in  his  gesture, 
although  it  was  a  great  crisis  in  his  life.  After  an 
instant  of  silence  in  which  he  sought  very  success- 
fully to  recover  the  grand  manner,  he  held  a  short 
private  colloquy  with  his  subaltern.  Neither  of  these 
gentlemen  had  been  informed  that  her  ladyship  ex- 
pected her  niece,  but  Mrs.  Plunket  the  housekeeper 
had  informed  them  that  a  new  under-housemaid  was 
expected  at  six  o'clock. 

That  is  how  the  instinct  of  Mr.  Marchbanks  came 
to  betray  him. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE     INSTINCT     OF     MR.     MARCHBANKS     BETRAYS     HIM 

IT  is  impossible  to  forgive  Mr.  Marchbanks.  He 
of  all  men  ought  to  have  known  that  the  fair 
intruder  was  what  is  technically  known  as  "  a 
lady."  In  these  democratic  times  it  is  true  this 
mysterious  entity  is  of  many  kinds,  and  it  was  a 
point  of  honor  with  Mr.  Marchbanks  to  keep  as  far 
behind  them  as  he  decently  could.  But  it  is  impos- 
sible to  forgive  him  for  jumping  to  his  absurd  con- 
clusion. One  can  understand  a  comparative  amateur 
such  as  John,  v/ho  judged  things  objectively,  making 
such  an  inexcusable  blunder;  but  that  such  a  past 
master  in  the  fine  shades  of  social  status  should  have 
confirmed  him  in  it,  is  one  of  those  things  that  frankly 
defeats  us. 

In  the  stateliest  fashion,  with  his  silvered  head 
held  very  erectly,  Mr.  Marchbanks  made  his  way  to 
the  housekeeper's  room. 

Mrs.  Plunket,  indisputable  sovereign  of  the  nether 
regions,  was  taking  tea.  Mr.  Marchbanks  greeted 
her  with  an  air  of  private  wrong. 

''  A  young  person,  ma'am,  is  arrived,"  said  he. 

"  The  new  under-housemaid  is  not  due  until  six 
o'clock,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket.  "  She  has  no  right  to 
come  before  her  time." 

48 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    49 

"  I  am  almost  afraid,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  March- 
banks,  with  diplomatic  reserve,  "  that  this  is  her  first 
place." 

"  Surely  not,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket.  "  She  has  been 
ten  months  in  the  service  of  the  Duchess  Dowager  of 
Blankhampton." 

''  Then,  I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Marchbanks,  gravely, 
"  that  she  has  not  profited  by  her  experience." 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Marchbanks!"  said  Mrs.  Plunket. 

"  She  rang  the  front-door  bell,"  said  Mr.  March- 
banks. 

*'  That  is  unpardonable,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket.  "  Yet 
the  Duchess  Dowager  of  Blankhampton  is  generally 
considered  very  good  service." 

"  Things  are  very  unsettled,  ma'am,  in  these  days," 
said  Mr.  Marchbanks,  gloomily.  "  It  seems  some- 
times that  even  good  service  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 
If  we  must  have  Radical  Governments  and  we  must 
have  higher  education  of  the  masses,  there  is  no  say- 
ing where  we  shall  get  to.  She — ah,  she  attempted 
to  shake  hands  with  me ! " 

Mr.  Marchbanks'  solemn,  deep-toned  note  of 
pathos  impinged  upon  the  domain  of  poetry. 

Mrs.  Plunket  shuddered. 

"  Mr.  Marchbanks,"  said  she,  "  if  you  desire  it 
she  shall  be  dismissed." 

At  heart,  however,  Mr.  Marchbanks  was  a  man  of 
liberal  views,  as  became  one  who  had  been  nurtured 
in  Whig  traditions. 

"  She  is  young,  ma'am,"  said  he,  with  a  dignified 
mildness   which  in   the   circumstances   Mrs.    Plunket 


50  AHAMINTA 

admired  extremely.  "  A  word  in  season  from  the 
right  quarter  might  bear  fruit." 

"  She  shall  have  it,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  with  a 
truculent  shake  of  the  teapot. 

"  Her  style  of  dress  also  leaves  much  to  be  desired," 
said  Mr.  Marchbanks.  "  It  is  distinctly  suburban  to 
my  mind.  But  no  doubt,  ma'am,  you  will  prefer  to 
judge  for  yourself." 

"  I  will  see  her,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket.  "  But  I  feel 
sure  I  shall  have  to  dismiss  her  at  once.  Yet 
to  be  an  under-housemaid  short  does  make  life  so 
difficult." 

"  Perhaps,  ma'am,  she  may  be  molded,"  said  Mr. 
Marchbanks  with  the  optimism  of  the  true  Whig. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  withdrew,  climbed  the  stairs  at  a 
dignified  leisure,  and  reached  the  marble  floor  of  the 
spacious  entrance-hall.  He  was  greeted  immediately 
by  a  gesture  of  distress  from  John.  It  seemed  that 
the  chaste  air  of  Hill  Street  was  being  defiled  by  an 
altercation  between  a  person  in  a  battered  straw  hat 
and  a  rustical  frock  and  an  elderly  cabman  who  smelt 
strongly  of  gin. 

The  fare  had  set  down  her  wicker  basket,  and  with 
some  little;  difficulty  had  contrived  to  draw  half  a 
crown  from  the  inside  of  her  glove. 

The  cabman  had  received  this  coin  dubiously. 
After  gazing  at  it  thoughtfully  as  it  lay  in  his  grimy 
palm,  said  he — 

"What  about  the  box,  miss.?  And  a  wet  arter- 
noon." 

"  Papa  said  the  fare  would  be  half  a  crown  from 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM     51 

Waterloo  Station,"  said  the  wearer  of  the  preposter- 
ous straw  hat. 

"  I  don't  know  about  your  pa,  miss,"  said  the  cab- 
man, "  but  I  do  know  that  the  box  is  outside  lug- 
gage. And  I  lifted  it  down  meself ,  and  I  carried  it  in 
with  my  own  'ands,  and  it's  raining  like  old  boots." 

"  Papa  said "  the  Straw-hatted  One  w^as  ex- 
plaining slowly  and  with  patience,  w^hen  Mr.  March- 
banks,  in  response  to  John's  appeal,  interrupted  her 
with  quiet  authority. 

Very  deftly  Mr.  Marchbanks  added  sixpence  to  the 
cabman's  half-crown. 

"  Go  away  as  soon  as  possible,"  said  Mr.  March- 
banks.  "  We  are  likely  to  have  callers  at  any 
moment." 

The  cabman  touched  his  hat  in  recognition  of  the 
fact  that  he  had  to  do  with  a  gentleman,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  carry  out  these  instructions. 

"  Do  you  mind  coming  this  way,  miss — ah,"  said 
Mr.  Marchbanks  a  little  haughtily  to  the  lady  of  the 
hat. 

"  Miss  Perry,"  said  she,  with  a  drawl  that  was 
almost  ludicrous. 

In  extenuation  of  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Marchbanks 
it  must  be  said  that  neither  his  sense  of  sight  nor  of 
hearing  were  quite  so  good  as  they  had  been.  Other- 
wise that  ludicrous  drawl  must  have  caused  him  con- 
siderable uneasiness. 

Miss  Perry  tucked  the  wicker  basket  under  her 
arm,  and  followed  Mr.  Marchbanks  with  perfect 
friendliness  and  simplicit3^     IMr.  Marchbanks  opened 


52  ARAMINTA 

the  door  of  the  housekeeper's  room,  and  in  his  own 
inimitable  manner,  announced — 

"  Miss  Perry." 

A  decidedly  stern,  angular-looking  lady  disen- 
gaged her  chin  from  a  teacup. 

"  The  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Plunket,"  Mr.  March- 
banks  deigned  to  explain  to  the  owner  of  the  straw 
hat. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  mentioned  the  name  of  Mrs. 
Plunket,  the  housekeeper,  in  a  manner  to  suggest  that 
it  expected  reverence  from  Miss  Perry.  Again,  how- 
ever, he  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  stately 
and  distant  inclination  of  Mrs.  Plunket's  head  merely 
provoked  a  frank  and  friendly  impulse  in  Miss  Perry. 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do.^  "  said  she.  "  I  hope  you  are 
quite  well." 

To  the  dismay  of  Mr.  Marchbanks  and  to  the 
dignified  stupefaction  of  iVIrs.  Plunket,  the  owner  of 
the  straw  hat  made  a  most  determined  effort  to  shake 
hands  with  that  lady. 

Mrs.  Plunket  gave  her  a  finger.  Being  as  short- 
sighted as  Mr.  Marchbanks  himself,  she  hastily  ad- 
justed her  spectacles  to  take  a  more  adequate  survey 
of  this  extremely  temerarious  person. 

Now,  the  first  thing  that  impressed  Mrs.  Plunket 
was  not  the  straw  hat,  not  the  gloves,  not  the  frock, 
not  the  wicker  basket,  and  not  even  the  cloak  with  the 
hood.  It  was  the  truly  Amazonian  proportions  of 
Miss  Perry  that  first  impressed  her. 

She  was  exactly  six  feet  high  in  her  stockings,  no 
more  and  no  less.     And  everything  about  her,  from 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    53 

the  too-visible  ankles  upwards,  were  in  the  same  pro- 
portion. Had  Mrs.  Plunket  had  an  eye  for  such  de- 
tails, and  unfortunately  she  had  not,  she  would  have 
observed  in  addition  to  the  disconcerting  physique 
and  the  shabby  and  ill-fitting  clothes,  a  pair  of  the 
bluest  eyes  and  a  mane  of  the  yellowest  hair  that  ever 
came  out  of  Devon.  It  is  true  that  the  eyes  were 
somewhat  dim  and  heavy,  because  they  had  shed  a 
vast  quantity  of  tears  during  the  past  forty-eight 
hours.  All  the  same  their  quality  was  wonderful. 
Then  also  there  was  an  equally  v,  onderful  West  Coun- 
try complexion,  washed  by  the  dew,  fed  by  the  sun- 
shine, and  refined  by  the  winds  of  the  sea  and  the 
moorland  into  a  perfect  glamor  of  pink  and  white. 
Yet  all  these  enchanting  details  had  nothing  to  say 
to  Mrs.  Plunket.  For  the  first  time  in  her  long  and 
successful  career  she  had  engaged  a  new  under-house- 
maid  merely  upon  the  strength  of  "  high-class  refer- 
ences "  only,  with  the  fatal  neglect  of  the  precaution 
of  "  a  personal  interview."  In  consequence  the  new 
under-housemaid  proved  to  be  six  feet  high,  whose 
naivete  of  dress  and  manners  was  something  wholly 
beyond  Mrs.  Plunket's  experience. 

"  Pray  sit  down,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  with  an  arc- 
tic air  which  would  not  have  disgraced  the  presiding 
genius  of  the  blue  drawing-room. 

Miss  Perry  sat  down  with  spacious  ease.  She 
placed  the  wicker  basket  on  her  knees  and  rested  her 
elbows  upon  it. 

"  Would  you  like  a  cup  of  tea.?  "  said  Mrs.  Plun- 
ket, stiffly. 


54  ARAMINTA 

"  Oh  yes,  please,"  said  Miss  Perry,  who  seemed 
sincerely  gratified  by  the  suggestion. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  retired  discreetly,  while  Mrs. 
Plunket  prepared  a  cup  of  tea  for  Miss  Perry.  As 
she  handed  it  to  her  she  gazed  very  sternly  through 
her  spectacles  at  the  new  under-housemaid  who  sat 
nursing  her  wicker  basket  with  remarkable  uncon- 
cern. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,"  said  Miss  Perry,  accepting 
the  cup  of  tea  with  really  charming  friendliness. 

"  I  had  no  idea  that  you  w^ere  so  large,"  said  Mrs. 
Plunket,  with  an  aggrieved  air.  "  I  think  the  fact 
ought  to  have  been  mentioned." 

Miss  Perry  drew  off  her  darned  cotton  gloves  with 
great  simplicity. 

"  I  am  rather  big,"  said  she,  "  but  if  the  beds  are 
too  small  I  can  curl  myself  up." 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  the  beds,"  said  Mrs. 
Plunket,  severely.  "  There  are  all  sizes  here.  I  am 
thinking  of  her  ladyship.  She  is  very  strict  and 
somewhat  old-fashioned  in  her  ideas.  I  am  afraid  she 
may  object  to  your  appearance." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  said  Miss  Perry,  putting 
three  lumps  of  sugar  in  her  tea  with  the  greatest 
amiability. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  sternly,  "  I  do.  It  is 
most  unusual.  Had  you  been  an  under-footman  of 
course  it  would  not  have  mattered." 

"Don't  you  think  so.? "  said  Miss  Perry,  who 
seemed  to  be  more  interested  in  her  cup  of  tea  than 
in  the  subject  of  the  under-footman. 

Now,  Miss  Perry  had  not  a  great  brain.     Indeed, 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    55 

in  the  opinion  of  those  best  qualified  to  speak  upon 
the  subject,  she  had  not  a  brain  at  all.  She  was 
merely  an  amiable,  frank,  friendly  person,  constitu- 
tionally slow-witted  and  phlegmatic.  The  manner  of 
her  reception  in  the  household  of  her  august  relation, 
whom  she  had  never  seen,  and  of  whom  the  only  thing 
she  knew  positively  was  that,  in  conjunction  with  the 
rest  of  that  great  family,  she  had  treated  her  papa 
and  her  dead  mamma  abominably,  ought  to  have 
given  her  furiously  to  think.  No  one,  however,  could 
have  been  less  addicted  to  that  process  than  Miss 
Perry. 

There  certainly  came  into  her  mind  in  a  confused 
sort  of  manner  a  remarkable  speech  that  had  been 
made  by  her  dearest  papa  when  he  opened  the  superb 
coroneted  envelope  and  read  Aunt  Caroline's  letter. 
"  I  dare  say  her  ladyship  has  a  vacancy  for  an  un- 
der-housemaid !  "  he  had  said,  with  his  quaint  and 
whimsical  laugh,  which  had  yet  been  so  severely  tried 
by  the  things  of  this  world  as  to  be  not  quite  so 
mirthful  as  it  might  have  been. 

By  the  time  Miss  Perry  had  come  to  remember 
this  circumstance  a  deep  wave  of  color  had  crept  over 
her  wonderful  countenance.  But  hers  was  the  tem- 
perament of  a  philosopher.  Instead  of  suffering  an 
agony  of  horrified  embarrassment,  as  some  young 
ladies  might  have  done,  she  merely  regarded  her  tea 
and  hoped  to  receive  an  invitation  to  partake  of  bread 
and  butter. 

"  You  have  been  in  service  before,  have  you  not?  " 
said  Mrs.  Plunket. 

"  Oh,    no,"    drawled    Miss    Perry,    finishing    her 


56  ARAMINTA 

cup  of  tea  and  looking  as  though  she  would  like 
another. 

"  I  am  afraid  this  is  serious,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket, 
with  chilling  dignity.     "  I  have  been  misinformed." 

A  pause  ensued,  in  which  Miss  Perry  hoped  in  vain 
for  a  little  more  refreshment. 

"  It  is  an  awfully  nice  day,  isn't  it  ?  "  said  Miss 
Perry,  conversationally. 

Mrs.  Plunket  was  too  much  preoccupied  with  the 
external  aspect  of  the  latest  thing  in  housemaids  to 
pay  the  least  attention  to  the  weather. 

"  A  mistake  appears  to  have  been  made,"  said  that 
lady,  acidly.  "  I  am  informed  that  your  name  is 
Perry." 

Miss  Perry  confirmed  that  information  with  modest 
yet  charming  friendliness. 

"  What  is  your  first  name?  "  said  Mrs.  Plunket. 

Miss  Perry  slowly  opened  her  blue  eyes  to  a  width 
that  was  really  extraordinary,  and  gave  a  wise  little 
shake  to  her  mane,  which  was  the  color  of  daffodils. 

"  My  name  is  Araminta,"  said  she,  with  a  drawl 
that  was  perfectly  ludicrous,  "  but  they  call  me 
Goose  because  I  am  rather  a  Sil-lay." 

Mrs.  Plunket  sat  bolt  upright.  Her  countenance 
was  the  picture  of  horror.  The  latest  thing  in  house- 
maids was  too  much  for  her.  She  flung  up  her  gaunt 
arms  with  a  tragic  gesture. 

"  Emma  Maddison  is  the  name  of  the  person  I  am 
expecting,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket. 

"  R-r-really,"  said  Miss  Perry,  who  rolled  her  R's 
in  an  inimitable  fashion. 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    57 

"  A  serious  mistake  has  been  made  by  somebody," 
said  Mrs.  Plunket.  "  I  am  expecting  a  person  of  the 
name  of  Emma  Maddison,  who  has  been  under-house- 
maid  for  ten  months  in  the  service  of  the  Duchess 
Dowager  of  Blankhampton." 

"  R-r-really,"  said  Miss  Perry,  whose  azure  orbs 
were  fixed  upon  the  teapot. 

Mrs.  Plunket  renewed  her  scrutiny  of  this  extraor- 
dinary housemaid.  The  battered  straw  hat  or  in- 
verted vegetable  basket,  which  sagged  at  the  brim  in 
an  almost  immoral  manner,  the  hooded  cloak,  the 
wicker  basket  with  string  attachment,  and  the  unpre- 
cedented display  of  ankle,  came  again  within  her  pur- 
view. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  she  remarked  in  much  the 
same  fashion  that  the  Right  Honorable  Lord  Jeffrey 
reviewed  Mr.  Wordsworth's  poetry. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  austerely.  "  Where 
have  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  My  home  is  at  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss  Perry, 
dissembling  her  pride  in  that  fact  in  an  uncommonly 
well-bred  manner. 

"Where,  pray,  is  Slocum  Magna?" 

"  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss  Perry,  who  was  al- 
ready marveling  in  her  slow-witted  way  at  the  con- 
summate ignorance  of  London  people,  "  is  the  next 
parish  to  Widdiford." 

"  And  where,  pray,  is  Widdiford.^ "  demanded 
Mrs.  Plunket. 

Miss  Perry's  wonderful  blue  eyes  opened  to  their 
limit.     Widdiford  was  the  center  of  civilization.     It 


58  ARAMINTA 

was  the  fixed  standard  by  which  tlie  world  itself  was 
measured.  Miss  Perry  slowly  marshaled  her  battal- 
ions for  a  great  intellectual  display. 

"  I  started  from  Widdiford,"  said  she,  "  at  a  quar- 
ter past  nine,  and  I  got  to  London  at  four.  That 
makes  nearly  seven  hours  by  railway,  and  you  have 
to  change  twice." 

During  the  pause  which  followed  this  announce- 
ment Mrs.  Plunket  grew  very  thoughtful  indeed. 
Finally  a  clear  conviction  seemed  to  enfold  her. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  "  but  I  fear  that  an  un- 
der-housemaid  who  is  six  feet  high  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Her  ladyship  has  a  rooted  objection  to  any 
kind  of  extravagance." 

Now,  as  I  have  said.  Miss  Perry  was  not  in  the 
least  clever.  The  sum  of  her  knowledge  of  the  world 
had  been  acquired  at  the  uncommonly  rustic  parson- 
age at  Slocum  Magna.  She  realized  in  her  lethargic 
fashion  that  her  Aunt  Caroline  was  a  very  proud  and 
unfeeling  old  woman,  who  had  an  odious  way  of 
treating  her  poor  relations.  Therefore,  coming 
vaguely  to  discern  that  the  situation  in  which  she 
found  herself  must  be  very  remarkable,  a  look  of  dis- 
may begin  to  settle  upon  her  pink  and  white  counte- 
nance. Mrs.  Plunket,  observing  it,  was  not  disposed 
to  be  unkind. 

"  You  had  better  stay  here  to-night,"  said  she ; 
"  and  in  the  morning  your  fare  will  be  paid  back  to 
Slocum  Magna." 

At  the  mention  of  the  blessed  name  of  Slocum 
Magna  the  look  of  dismay  lifted  from  the  face  of 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    59 

Miss  Perry.  But  it  was  for  a  moment  only.  She  re- 
membered with  a  pang  of  sore  distress  that  she  had 
come  all  the  way  to  London  on  a  great  mission.  The 
ebbing  fortunes  of  the  Parsonage  were  vested  in  her. 
When  her  dearest  papa,  whose  trousers  seemed  to  get 
shorter  and  shabbier  every  year,  had  watched  her 
button  a  whole  sovereign  and  two  half-crowns  and  a 
third-class  railway  ticket  into  her  glove  on  the  down 
platform  at  Widdiford  Junction,  and  he  had  kissed 
her  on  both  cheeks,  he  said,  "  If  it  were  not  for 
Dickie  and  Charley  and  Polly  and  Milly  and  Betty, 
we'd  take  precious  good  care  that  your  Aunt  Caro- 
line did  not  rob  us  of  the  pick  of  the  basket."  There- 
fore, very  slowly  yet  very  clearly,  her  duty  seemed  to 
shape  itself  in  her  mind. 

"  Oh,  if  you  please,"  said  she,  "  I  don't  think  I 
want  to  go  back  to  Slocum  Magna.  Perhaps  I  might 
speak  to  Aunt  Caroline." 

"Aunt  Caroline?"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  with  a 
puzzled  air. 

She  then  remembered  that  although  Mrs.  Bateman, 
the  cook,  was  called  Hannah,  as  cooks  always  are, 
her  real  name  was  Caroline. 

"  I  was  not  aware,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  "  that  you 
were  a  niece  of  Mrs.  Bateman's.'* 

Miss  Perry  was  not  aware  of  it  either.  A  ray  of 
intelligence  percolated  to  that  unsusceptible  mind. 
All  was  explained.  She  had  come  to  the  wrong 
house. 

"Is  this  Mrs.  Bateman's?  "  said  she. 

"  Certainly  it  is  not  Mrs.  Bateman's,"  said  Mrs. 


60  ARAMINTA 

Plunket,  sternly,  "  but  she  lives  here,  of  course.  Per- 
haps you  would  like  to  see  her." 

So  much  was  Miss  Perry  mystified  by  this  new  turn 
of  events  that  she  was  unable  to  say  whether  she 
would  like  to  see  Mrs.  Bateman  or  not.  In  Mrs. 
Plunket's  opinion  silence  gave  consent.  She  rang  the 
bell  and  desired  the  immediate  attendance  of  that 
lady. 

A  portly,  good-humored  dame  of  florid  complexion 
and  communicative  manners  made  her  appearance. 

"  Mrs.  Bateman,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  briefly,  "  I 
believe  this  is  your  niece." 

Having  overcome  her  first  emotion  of  legitimate 
surprise,  Mrs.  Bateman  welcomed  Miss  Perry  with 
eff*usion. 

"  Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "  it  is  that  girl  of  Maria's ! 
She  is  the  image  of  Maria.  Very  pleased  to  see  you, 
my  love.     How's  your  father.?  " 

The  next  thing  of  which  Miss  Perry  was  conscious 
was  that  a  pair  of  fat  arms  were  hugging  her  and 
that  she  was  being  kissed  in  a  very  vigorous  man- 
ner. 

"  How  like  your  mother  to  be  sure,"  said  Mrs. 
Bateman,  "  and  what  a  big  girl  you've  grown !  " 

"  Too  big,  in  my  opinion,  for  good  service,'^  said 
Mrs.  Plunket. 

"  You  can't  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  can 
you,  my  love?  "  said  Mrs.  Bateman. 

Miss  Perry  was  bewildered.  Mrs.  Bateman  was 
not  in  the  least  like  the  Aunt  CaroHne  she  had  ex- 
pected to  see. 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM     61 

"  Are  you  r-r-really  Aunt  Caroline  ?  "  she  said, 
with  her  eyes  at  their  widest. 

"  You  must  be  Sally,"  said  Mrs.  Bateman,  "  little 
Sally  Dickinson  who  used  to  be  so  fond  of  sugar." 

"  It  appears  to  have  been  a  stimulating  diet,"  said 
Mrs.  Plunket. 

"  Little  Sally  Dickinson  who  didn't  like  to  go  to 
bed  early,"  said  Mrs.  Bateman.  "  Law,  how  you've 
grown,  my  dear !  " 

"  My  name  is  Araminta  Perry,"  said  that  wonder- 
ful person  with  slow-drawn  solemnity. 

"  Sally  Dickinson,  my  love,"  said  Mrs.  Bateman. 
"  I  should  know  you  anywhere." 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  Mrs.  Plunket  to  grow  be- 
wildered. 

"  There  is  some  mystery  here,"  said  she.  "  If  she 
is  Araminta  Perry  she  cannot  be  Sally  Dickinson, 
and  if  she  is  Sally  Dickinson  she  cannot  be  Araminta 
Perry." 

All  concerned  seemed  to  feel  that  this  was  preg- 
nant reasoning. 

"That  is  right,  Mrs.  Plunket,"  said  Mrs.  Bate- 
man, "  that  is  common  sense  and  human  nature." 

"  Are  you  r-r-really  Aunt  Caroline?  "  said  Miss 
Perry,  with  her  blue  eyes  growing  rounder  and 
rounder. 

"  Of  course  I  am,  my  love,"  said  Mrs.  Bateman, 
affectionately ;  "  and  very  proud  to  be  the  aunt  of 
such  a  bouncing  girl  as  you." 

It  was  left  to  the  practical  intelligence  of  Mrs. 
Plunket  to  find  the  solution  to  the  puzzle. 


62  ARAMINTA 

"  I  presume,"  said  she  to  Miss  Perry  with  great 
severity,  "  that  Bateman  is  the  name  of  your  Aunt 
Caroline." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  that  Featherbrain. 

"  No !  "  gasped  Mrs.  Bateman. 

"  No !  "  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  with  great  sternness. 
"  Then  what,  pray,  is  the  name  of  your  Aunt  Caro- 
hne.?" 

The  fair  Araminta  knitted  her  brows.  Was 
there  ever  anything  so  unlucky?  The  name  of 
her  august  relation  had  passed  clean  out  of  her 
head. 

"  I  don't  remember,"  drawled  Miss  Featherbrain,  in 
the  throes  of  a  considerable  mental  struggle. 

"  You  don't  remember ! "  said  Mrs.  Plunket. 
"  Upon  my  word !  " 

Mrs.  Plunket  and  Mrs.  Bateman  subjected  Miss 
Perry  to  a  prolonged  scrutiny. 

"  There,"  said  Mrs.  Bateman,  triumphantly,  "  it 
is  just  as  I  said.     She  is  Sally  Dickinson." 

"  Try  to  remember  the  first  letter  of  your  aunt's 
name,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket,  in  a  tone  which  frightened 
Mrs.  Bateman,  but  which  seemed  to  make  no  particu- 
lar impact  upon  Miss  Perry. 

That  Featherbrain  mustered  all  her  battalions  to 
wage  herculean  warfare.  She  knitted  her  brows  and 
clasped  her  wicker  basket  still  more  firmly.  In  the 
process  of  time,  as  was  only  to  be  expected  after  such 
a  stupendous  display  of  mental  energy,  an  inspira- 
tion came  to  her. 

"  She's  the  Countess  of  Something !  " 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    63 

Mrs.  Plunket  sat  bolt  upright,  as  if  moved  by  an 
invisible  spring. 

"  The  Countess  of  Something !  "  said  she. 

Upon  one  side  of  her  face  was  incredulity,  upon 
the  other  was  dismay.  She  then  looked  at  Mrs.  Bate- 
man  blankly. 

"  The  Countess  of  Crewkerne,"  said  Miss  Feather- 
brain, with  an  air  of  triumph. 

Mrs.  Bateman  gave  a  little  howl. 

"Oh  lord!"  she  cried,  "haven't  I  just  put  my 
foot  in  it?    It  means  a  month's  notice." 

Mrs.  Bateman  simply  turned  and  bolted.  Mrs. 
Plunket,  as  became  her  exalted  position,  was  of 
stouter  fiber. 

"  Miss  Perry,"  said  she,  with  a  dignity  that  was 
really  admirable,  "  I  apologize  for  a  most  unfortu- 
nate mistake.  I  regret  it  exceedingly.  I  hope  you 
will  be  so  kind  as  not  to  mention  the  matter  to  her 
ladyship." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  charming 
amiabihty. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  was  promptly  summoned. 

"  A  most  unfortunate  mistake  has  been  made,  Mr. 
Marchbanks,"  said  Mrs.  Plunket  to  that  ambassador. 
*'  Miss  Perry  is  her  ladyship's  niece." 

To  say  that  a  feather  would  have  knocked  Mr. 
Marchbanks  over  is  to  state  the  case  lightly.  Yet 
even  in  the  depths  of  his  consternation  he  directed 
a  glance  of  solemn  unbelief  at  the  preposterous 
hat. 

"  Announce  Miss  Perry's  arrival  to  her  ladysliip," 


64  ARAMINTA 

said  Mrs.  Plunket,  "  but  do  not  mention  anything 
else." 

Mr.  Marchbanks  was  besieged  with  doubt  as  he 
made  his  way  to  the  blue  drawing-room.  In  spite  of 
Mrs.  Plunket's  sensational  statement,  incredulity  still 
reigned  in  his  mind.  It  was  possible  that  a  hideous 
error  had  been  committed ;  and  yet  in  the  ripeness 
of  his  judgment  he  clearly  foresaw  the  possibility  of 
committing  another.  He  had  Mrs.  Plunket's  author- 
ity that  the  nondescript  creature  who  had  come  with 
a  corded  box  in  a  four-wheel  cab,  who  wore  an  un- 
seemly hat,  unmentionable  gloves  and  boots,  and  who 
had  attempted  to  shake  hands  with  him,  was  her  lady- 
ship's niece;  but  all  the  same  he  had  his  own  opinion. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  entered  the  blue  drawing-room  on 
the  horns  of  a  dilemma.  It  was  difficult  to  know 
what  line  to  take. 

He  was  glad  to  observe  that  her  ladyship  was 
alone  with  her  gentlewoman.  They  were  engaged  in 
a  game  of  piquet;  and  the  gentlewoman  was  just 
about  to  be  rubiconed,  an  indignity  she  suffered  on  an 
average  three  times  a  day. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  approached  his  mistress,  and  hav- 
ing waited  while  she  claimed  two  for  the  last  trick, 
said — 

"  A  young  person  of  the  name  of  Perry  is  arrived, 
my  lady." 

Her  ladyship  looked  at  Mr.  Marchbanks  bleakly. 

"  What  is  that  to  do  with  me  ?  "  she  said. 

It  would  seem  that  for  the  moment  the  name  of 
Perry  had  passed  as  completely  out  of  her  head  as 


MARCHBANKS'  INSTINCT  BETRAYS  HIM    65 

though  it  had  never  been  in  it ;  and  the  question  she 
had  put  to  Mr.  Marchbanks  was  precisely  the  one 
that  that  diplomatist  desired  her  to  answer  herself. 

"  She  appears  to  have  business  with  your  lady- 
ship," said  he. 

"  Very  odd,"  said  his  venerable  mistress.  "  A  young 
person  of  the  name  of  Perry." 

And  then  quite  suddenly  a  light  dawned  upon  her. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said  to  her  gentlewoman ;  "  I  had 
forgotten.     That  girl  of  Polly's." 

Like  a  hawk  she  swooped  down  upon  the  luckless 
Mr.  Marchbanks. 

"  Tell  me,  Marchbanks,"  she  said,  "  what  you 
mean  precisely  by  a  young  person  of  the  name  of 
Perry.    Do  you  wish  to  infer  that  she  is  not  a  lady.^^  " 

It  was  as  tight  a  corner  as  Mr.  Marchbanks  had 
ever  been  in.  Yet  he  yielded  to  none  in  professional 
wisdom. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  infer,  your  ladyship,  that  she 
might  not  be  a  lady,"  said  Mr.  Marchbanks,  cau- 
tiously. 

"  It  appears  to  me,  Marchbanks,"  said  his  vener- 
able mistress,  "  that  you  are  getting  too  old  for  your 
place.     I  will  see  my  niece,  Miss  Perry." 

"  Thank  you,  my  lady,"  said  Mr.  Marchbanks, 
with  a  bead  of  perspiration  upon  his  forehead. 


CHAPTER  VI 

UNWARRANTABLE    BEHAVIOR    OF    TOBIAS 

THE  old  lady  sat  very  upright  to  receive  her 
niece. 

It  is  regrettable  to  have  to  state  that  a  subtle  air 
of  triumph  was  hovering  around  Mr.  Marchbanks  as 
he  announced  Miss  Perry.  For  that  irresponsible 
person  still  retained  her  hooded  cloak,  the  preposter- 
ous hat  was  there  in  all  its  naivete,  her  frock  looked 
more  shrunken  and  her  cobbled  boots  more  conspicu- 
ous than  ever ;  and  in  her  left  hand  the  wicker  basket 
tied  with  string  was  very  firmly  borne. 

The  old  lady  mounted  her  eyeglass  as  a  prelim- 
inary measure.  She  gazed  at  her  protegee  with  a 
resolution  that  was  almost  awful.  But  it  took  more 
than  this  to  defeat  Miss  Perry. 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do .?  "  said  that  irresponsible  per- 
son, coming  forward  and  completely  enveloping  the 
old  lady  and  her  gentlewoman  in  a  most  gracious 
beam.     "  I  hope  you  are  quite  well." 

The  presiding  genius  of  the  blue  drawing-room 
looked  Miss  Perry  up  and  looked  Miss  Perry  down, 
from  the  crown  of  the  luckless  hat  to  the  soles  of  the 
cobbled  boots.  At  a  disdainful  leisure  the  Amazonian 
proportions,  which  the  general  inadequacy  of  the  out- 

66 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF  TOBIAS   67 

grown  garments  seemed  to  accentuate,  sank  into  the 
ruthless  critic.  The  grim  old  mouth  relaxed  in  frank 
astonishment. 

"  Dear  me !  "  it  said,  "  how  uncomfortable." 

Miss  Perry  was  not  really  abashed,  although  the 
turban,  the  eyeglass,  the  ebony  cane,  the  hawk-like 
features,  and  the  general  day-of-judgment  demeanor 
certainly  gave  pause  to  that  Featherbrain.  At  least, 
she  opened  her  blue  eyes  very  wide  and  gripped  her 
wicker  basket  very  firmly. 

The  old  lady's  truculent  gaze  fell  upon  that  un- 
fortunate accompaniment. 

"  What,  pray,  is  that  contrivance.'' "  she  de- 
manded. 

Miss  Perry  tucked  the  wicker  basket  under  her 
arm. 

"  Oh,  if  you  please.  Aunt  Caroline,"  said  she,  with 
a  drawl  that  was  really  irresistibly  foolish,  "  this  is 
Tobias." 

"  Tobias,"  said  the  old  lady,  suspiciously.  "  Who 
pray,  and  what,  pray,  is  Tobias?  " 

Perhaps  it  is  right  to  mention  that  the  old  lady 
was  not  alone  in  her  suspiciousness.  It  was  shared  by 
Ponto.  That  overfed  quadruped,  having  made  a  very 
good  luncheon  indeed,  was  curled  up  at  the  feet  of 
his  mistress.  Yet  at  the  mere  mention  of  Tobias, 
whether  by  an  association  of  ideas,  or  by  a  process 
of  mental  telepathy  peculiar  to  the  dumb  creation,  I 
am  not  prepared  to  say,  but  Ponto  began  to  grow 
decidedly  restless. 

"  I  trust,"  said  the  old  lady,  viewing  the  wicker 


68  ARAMINTA 

basket  with  an  increasing  disfavor,  "  that  Tobias  is 
not  any  kind  of  an  animal." 

As  if  to  corroborate  his  mistress,  Ponto  opened  his 
eyes  and  began  to  grow  uncommonly  wide  awake. 

"  Tobias  is  just  a  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  a 
charming  air  of  reassurance.  "  He  is  just  an  old 
precious." 

The  old  lady  looked  so  positively  arctic  as  she  ad- 
dressed the  custodian  of  Tobias  that  both  Miss 
Burden  and  Mr.  Marchbanks  were  chilled  to  the 
marrow. 

"  If  Tobias  is  a  living  thing,"  said  the  old  lady, 
"  and  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  it  is,  I  for- 
bid it  the  blue  drawing-room.  And  I  consider  it  an 
act  of  gross   impertinence " 

However,  before  the  old  lady  could  conclude  a 
speech  which  was  intended  to  exterminate  both  Tobias 
and  his  custodian,  there  befell  a  most  melancholy 
occurrence.  Whether  Tobias,  growing  incensed  at 
his  excommunication,  became  violent  in  his  basket,  or 
whether  his  custodian  was  so  much  distressed  thereby 
as  to  relax  her  hold  upon  it,  will  never  be  known  with 
any  degree  of  certainty.  But  w^hat  happened  was 
this.  Right  in  the  middle  of  the  old  lady's  ruthless 
deliverance  upon  the  subject  the  wicker  basket  fell 
with  a  thud  onto  the  Persian  carpet. 

At  the  same  instant  the  lid  fell  off  in  the  most 
dramatic  manner.  Two  yellow  shin  pads,  which  had 
seen  service  in  the  hockey  field,  and  a  long,  lean 
brown  body  flew  out  together.  Miss  Burden  screamed ; 
and  incredible  as  it  may  appear,  Ponto  shot  straight 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF  TOBIAS   69 

up  the  window  curtains,  and  feeling  dear  life  to  be 
at  stake  balanced  himself  very  precariously  upon  the 
pole  at  the  top. 

Miss  Burden  approached  the  verge  of  hysteria.  Mr. 
Marchbanks  seemed  overwhelmed.  As  for  the  custo- 
dian of  Tobias,  she  picked  up  the  yellow  shin  pads 
with  spacious  and  charming  unconcern,  quite  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  The  old  lady's  nerves  were 
undoubtedly  shaken ;  all  the  same  she  retained  the 
perfect  command  of  a  lively  and  vigorous  self-pos- 
session. 

She  gathered  her  black  silk  dress  about  her,  and 
poised  her  ebony  walking-stick  determinedly,  and  then 
she  stormed. 

"  What  is  it.?  "  she  demanded.     "  Is  it  a  snake?  " 

Miss  Burden  screamed. 

Miss  Perry  replaced  the  yellow  shin  pads  in  the 
wicker  basket  with  a  leisureliness  which  was  highly 
reassuring. 

"  Speak,  girl,"  stormed  the  old  lady.  "  I  repeat, 
what  is  it.f^  If  you  have  dared  to  introduce  a  reptile 
into  my  drawing-room  you  shall  both  leave  this  house 
immediately." 

Even  this  decree  did  not  perturb  Miss  Perry.  She 
still  preserved  her  constitutional  obliviousness  to  any- 
thing in  the  nature  of  commotion. 

"  Oh  no,  dear  Aunt  Caroline,"  she  drawled.  *'  To- 
bias is  not  a  snake.     He  is  only  a  ferret." 

The  old  lady  snorted  blood  and  fire. 

"  A  ferret !  "  she  stormed.  "  I  positively  forbid 
ferrets  in  my  drawing-room.     Marchbanks,  remove 


70  ARAMINTA 

it  immediately,  and  then  have  the  goodness  to  fetch 
down  Ponto  from  the  curtain-pole." 

Now,  although  Mr.  Marchbanks  was  a  strong, 
silent  man  he  did  not  quite  know  how  to  grapple  with 
the  situation.  To  begin  with,  although  his  experience 
of  men  and  things  was  very  wide,  it  has  to  be  con- 
fessed that  he  had  never  handled  a  ferret  in  his  life. 
And,  again,  it  was  not  easy  to  know  where  Tobias 
had  got  to. 

"  Remove  it  immediately,"  stormed  the  old  lady. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  stooped  very  cautiously  to  peer 
under  the  table.  To  his  infinite  relief  Tobias  was  not 
there. 

However,  the  hawklike  eyes  of  his  mistress  very 
quickly  detected  the  whereabouts  of  the  alien  pres- 
ence. 

"  It  is  behind  the  window  curtains." 

Mr.  Marchbanks  approached  the  window  curtains 
very  warily.  But  even  then  he  was  unable  to  see 
Tobias. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  his  mistress.  "  In  the  corner 
there.  Approach  quietly.  And  if  you  value  your 
fingers  be  careful  where  you  put  them." 

Mr.  Marchbanks  appeared  to  value  his  fingers  so 
much  that  nothing  seemed  farther  from  his  intention 
than  to  bring  them  into  the  vicinity  of  Tobias. 

"  Why  don't  you  do  as  you  are  told,  man  ?  There 
it  is  in  the  corner,  straight  in  front  of  your  nose." 

Mr.  Marchbanks,  however,  still  seemed  wholly  un- 
able to  locate  Tobias. 

It  was  left  to  Miss  Perry  to  play  the  part  of  the 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF  TOBIAS   71 

goddess  out  of  the  machine.  That  Scatterbrain,  hav- 
ing at  last  clearly  realized  the  situation,  came  for- 
ward to  the  window  curtains,  open  basket  in  hand,  in 
the  friendliest  and  most  reassuring  manner. 

"  He  is  just  a  sweet,"  she  said  to  Mr.  Marchbanks. 
"  He  never  bites  a  soul  if  you  take  him  round  the 
throat  gently.     There  he  is,  the  duckums !  " 

Mr.  Marchbanks  appeared  still  unable  to  see 
Tobias. 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  I  had  better 
take  him  myself.^  " 

"  Yes,  girl,"  stormed  the  old  lady,  "  I  think  you 
had  better." 

Mr.  Marchbanks,  who  seemed  to  share  the  opin- 
ion of  his  mistress,  stepped  back  haughtily  several 
paces. 

"  Come  along,  then,"  said  Miss  Perry,  cooing  to 
the  window  curtains.  "  Come  along,  Toby,  then." 
She  knelt  down  and  began  to  grope.  "  Come  along, 
Toby,  boy.     There  he  is,  the  sweet !  " 

Very  deftly  she  made  a  grab  at  the  lurking,  lean, 
brown  form  of  Tobias,  took  him  by  the  throat,  popped 
him  into  the  open  basket,  and  fastened  down  the  Hd. 

"  He  wouldn't  bite  a  soul,"  she  said,  rising  to  her 
full  height,  with  a  smile  of  invincible  friendliness. 
"  He  is  just  a  precious." 

"  Carry  it  into  the  hall ! "  cried  the  old  lady. 
"  Marchbanks,  fetch  down  Ponto." 

Poised  very  insecurely  upon  a  chair,  Mr.  March- 
banks  found  it  not  altogether  easy  to  induce  Ponto  to 
quit  his  place  of  refuge.     At  length,  however,  he  was 


72  ARAMINTA 

able  to  restore  the  quivering  quadruped  to  his 
mistress. 

In  the  meantime  Miss  Perry,  with  affectionate 
pride,  had  carried  the  wicker  basket  into  the  hall. 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  lady,  truculently,  "  that 
girl  ought  to  be  flogged." 

Upon  the  return  of  Miss  Perry,  with  uplifted  fin- 
ger, the  old  lady  ordered  her  to  approach. 

"  Come  here,  girl,"  said  she.  "  I  think  your  be- 
havior is  disgraceful.  Were  you  brought  up  in  a 
barn.?" 

Such  a  direct  and  ruthless  mode  of  address  caused 
a  blush  to  overspread  the  extremely  picturesque 
countenance  of  Miss  Perry.  Quite  suddenly  her  great 
blue  eyes  swam  with  tears. 

"  Tobias  did  not  mean  any  harm,"  said  she.  "  He 
is  such  a  sweet.  It  was  not  his  fault  that  I  dropped 
the  basket." 

"  Let  us  have  no  more  of  Tobias,"  said  the  old 
lady.  "  Now  understand  " — the  finger  went  up  again 
— "  upon  no  pretext  whatever  will  I  allow  in  future 
a  ferret  to  enter  my  drawing-room.  I  really — I — 
upon  my  word !  " 

The  old  lady  subsided  in  an  incoherent  gurgle  of 
indignation. 

Meanwhile,  the  sight  of  tears,  as  was  always  the 
case,  had  moved  the  tender  heart  of  Miss  Burden. 

"  Dear  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  she,  "  Miss  Perr}^ 
has  had  a  long  journey.  I  feel  sure  she  must  be  tired. 
Would  she  not  like  a  little  refreshment  ?  " 

The  mention  of  the  word  refreshment  seemed  un- 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF  TOBIAS   73 

mistakably  to  touch  a  responsive  chord  In  the  sus- 
ceptible mechanism  of  Miss  Perry. 

"  Bring  some  tea,"  said  the  old  lady  to  Mr.  March- 
banks  very  gruffly.  And  then  to  the  culprit  she  said 
with  tremendous  austerity,  "  Would  you  like  some- 
thing to  eat.''  " 

"  Oh  yes,  please,"  said  Miss  Perry.  At  the  same 
moment  she  mopped  up  her  tears  with  an  absurdly 
small  handkerchief  with  a  blue-spotted  border. 

"  What  do  you  eat,  as  a  rule.?  "  said  the  old  Isidy, 
with  a  sarcasm  that  was  not  in  the  least  obvious  to 
Miss  Perry. 

"  I  eat  bread  and  jam,  as  a  rule,"  said  Miss  Perry, 
with  a  promptitude  that  was  delightfully  persuasive. 

"  Humph,"  said  the  old  lady.  She  measured  Miss 
Perry  with  her  grim  old  eyes  as  though  she  were  a 
rare  specimen  in  the  Zoological  Garden.  "  Bread  and 
jam,"  said  she.  And  then,  with  an  air  of  really  tre- 
mendous sarcasm,  she  said  for  the  guidance  of  a  dis- 
creet spectator,  "  Have  the  goodness,  Marchbanks, 
to  bring  some  bread  and  jam." 

The  old  lady  made  a  second  survey  of  Miss  Perry, 
from  the  crown  of  the  luckless  straw  hat  to  the  soles 
of  the  cobbled  boots,  while  the  object  of  it  folded  up 
neatly  the  handkerchief  with  the  spotted  border  and 
returned  it  to  a  mysterious  pocket.  She  then  stood 
wondering  what  was  going  to  happen  in  a  singularly 
solemn  manner. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  old  lady. 

Miss  Perry  sat  down  spaciously  upon  a  chair  that 
was  particularly  fragile. 


74  ARAMINTA 

"  The  most  uncomfortable  creature  I  have  ever 
seen,"  said  the  old  lady  in  an  aside  to  her  gentle- 
woman. "  Quite  out  of  place  in  a  drawing-room." 
And  then  to  Miss  Perry :  "  Have  you  ever  been  in  a 
drawing-room  before?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"Where?"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  We  have  one  at  home,"  drawled  Miss  Perry,  "  but 
it  is  only  a  little  one." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  And  where  is  your 
home,  pray  ?  " 

"  I  live  at  the  Parsonage  at  Slocum  Magna,"  said 
Miss  Perry. 

"  Humph ! "  said  the  old  lady.  "  Some  kind  of 
clerical  bear-garden,  I  presume." 

The  providential  reappearance  of  Mr.  March- 
banks  came  to  the  aid  of  Miss  Perry.  He  bore  a 
massive  silver  tray  with  an  equally  massive  silver  tea- 
pot upon  it.  There  was  also  an  exquisite  plate  of 
old  blue  china.  Upon  this  were  five  tiny  pieces  of 
bread  and  butter,  each  a  little  larger  than  Miss 
Perry's  thumbnail,  each  arranged  at  an  artistic 
angle,  and  each  spread  with  a  very  thin  layer  of  j  am. 

A  beautiful  table  of  rare  Indian  inlay  work  was 
set  before  Miss  Perry.  Mr.  Marchbanks  placed  the 
silver  tray  upon  it. 

Miss  Perry  immediately  sat  very  upright  indeed. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,"  said  she.  Her  air  was  so 
charmingly  sincere  that  it  went  some  w^ay  towards 
reconciling  Mr.  Marchbanks  to  many  things. 

The  old  lady  mounted  her  eyeglass  again.     It  was 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF  TOBIAS   75 

clear  from  the  general  irony  of  her  demeanor  that  she 
was  expecting  some  kind  of  development.  In  this  ex- 
pectation she  was  not  disappointed. 

For  a  moment  Miss  Perry  appeared  to  be  rather 
troubled  by  the  waferlike  texture  of  the  bread  and 
jam.  It  was  only  for  a  moment,  however.  Without 
waiting  to  pour  out  the  tea  into  the  tiny  blue  china 
cup  that  had  been  provided  for  its  reception,  she 
proceeded  very  carefully  to  pile  each  of  the  wafer- 
like pieces  of  bread  and  jam  one  upon  another.  These 
by  their  united  efforts  having  become  a  tolerable- 
sized  morsel,  Miss  Perry  opened  her  mouth  with  pen- 
sive deliberation,  and  placed  therein  gently  but  firmly 
the  five  pieces  as  one. 

If  there  is  a  combination  of  words  in  the  English 
language  which  can  express  the  manner  in  which  the 
old  lady  turned  to  meet  the  half-frightened  gaze  of 
her  gentlewoman,  it  is  certainly  not  in  the  possession 
of  her  biographer.  Miss  Perry,  however,  masticated 
her  morsel  with  superb  unconcern. 

"  Burden,  have  the  goodness  to  ring  the  bell,"  said 
the  old  lady,  with  formidable  politeness. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  entered.  As  a  preliminary  meas- 
ure his  mistress  fixed  that  diplomatist  with  her  eye. 
She  literally  dared  him  to  move  a  muscle. 

"  Marchbanks,"  said  she,  "  have  the  goodness  to 
bring  another  plate  of  bread  and  jam." 

Mr.  Marchbanks  made  a  bow  worthy  of  a  recep- 
tion at  the  Foreign  Office. 

"  Thank  you  so  m.uch,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

The  old  lady  turned  to  Miss  Perry,  who  appeared 


76  ARAMINTA 

to  be  stimulated  by  the  morsel  she  had  eaten,  and 
even  more  so  by  the  prospect  of  another. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  where  is  Slocum 
Magna  ?  " 

Miss  Perry's  blue  eyes,  which  by  now  were  per- 
fectly dry,  opened  to  a  width  that  was  astonishing. 
The  ignorance  of  London  people  was  really  very 
remarkable. 

"  Slocum  Magna  is  the  next  village  to  Widdiford," 
said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Ah,  yes,  the  next  village  to  Widdif  ord.  One 
ought  to  have  known." 

The  manner  in  which  Miss  Perry  strove  to  exten- 
uate the  painfully  obvious  ignorance  of  her  august 
and  formidable  relation  was  really  a  triumph  of  good 
breeding. 

"  They  haven't  quite  got  the  railway  at  Widdif  ord 
yet,  don't  you  know,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  but  it  is 
only  three  miles  away,  of  course." 

"  The  railway  is  only  three  miles  away,  of  course," 
said  the  old  lady,  assenting  with  a  grim  chuckle. 

The  arrival  of  the  second  relay  of  bread  and  jam 
imposed  silence  upon  Miss  Perry.  The  faithfulness 
with  which  it  was  dealt  with  was  quite  equal  to  that 
previously  displayed.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  Miss  Burden  still  looked  a  little  frightened,  while 
Ponto  raised  himself  on  his  forepaws  with  a  look  of 
open  admiration. 

"  By  the  way,  what  is  your  name.?  "  said  the  old 
lady. 

A    somewhat    lengthy    pause    was    necessary    to 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF    TOBIAS  77 

enable  Miss  Perry  to  do  justice  to  such  a  leading 
question. 

"  My  name  is  Araminta,"  said  she,  and  her  drawl 
was  carried  to  such  a  ludicrous  length  that  even 
Ponto  smiled  at  it,  although  he  had  very  little  sense 
of  humor,  "  but  they  call  me  Goose  because  I  am 
rather  a  Sil-lay." 

The  beak  of  the  old  lady  seemed  to  take  an  addi- 
tional curve.  The  hanging- j  udge  look  had  never 
seemed  so  awe-inspiring. 

"  Your  name  is  Araminta,"  she  repeated  with  a 
deliberation  that  was  positively  sinister,  "  but  they 
call  you  Goose  because  you  are  rather  a  silly.  Do 
they  indeed !  " 

Miss  Perry  beamed  upon  the  old  lady  with  a  com- 
prehensiveness that  was  perfectly  distracting. 

"  I  don't  think  I  am  really  a  silly,"  said  she,  as  if 
she  were  quite  convinced  she  were  not,  "  but  Muffin 
says  I  am.  It's  because  I  can  never  remember  whether 
Tuesday  comes  after  Monday  or  whether  Monday 
comes  after  Tuesday." 

"Who,  pray,  is  Muffin.?" 

"  Muffin  is  my  sister,  don't  you  know,"  said  Miss 
Perry.  "  Her  name  is  Elizabeth  really,  but  we  call 
her  Muffin  because  she  is  rather  a  ragamuffin." 

"  Humph !  "  said  the  old  lady. 

By  nature  she  was  grave  and  grim,  but  it  was 
Miss  Burden's  opinion  that  she  had  never  looked  quite 
so  grave  and  quite  so  grim  as  in  the  course  of  this 
first  interview  with  the  late  Lady  Augusta's  second 
daughter. 


78  ARAMINTA 

"  Burden,"  said  she  in  a  truculent  aside,  "  this 
comes  of  mixing  the  breed.  Polly  was  a  born  fool, 
but  she  was  never  equal  to  this.  What  is  to  be  done 
with  the  creature?  It  was  my  intention  to  marry 
her  respectably  so  that  she  might  be  a  help  to 
her  family,  who  are  as  poor  as  mice  and  who  ap- 
pear to  live  like  pigs.  But  who,  pray,  will  marry  a 
natural.^  " 

Miss  Burden,  however,  was  at  heart  incurably 
lenient  in  her  judgments.  She  demurred  with  a  vigor 
she  seldom  displayed. 

"  She  is  a  singularly  beautiful  girl,"  said  Miss 
Burden,  with  enthusiasm.  "  Her  manner  is  delight- 
fully her  own,  and  she  is  formed  like  a  goddess  and 
she  is  perfectly  charming." 

'•'  Faugh !  "  said  the  old  lady,  ruthlessly.  "  Burden, 
you  are  a  born  fool.  The  creature  is  an  idiot.  Look 
at  her  now." 

Miss  Perry  had  renounced  her  chair  for  political 
reasons.  She  was  sitting  now  in  the  middle  of  the 
sofa.  Her  lips  were  slightly  parted  and  one  finger 
was  unmistakably  in  her  mouth.  Her  great  blue  eyes 
were  gazing  far  away  into  vacancy.  Also  they  ap- 
peared to  be  slightly  moist.  The  fact  was  that  at 
that  moment  Miss  Perry  was  back  at  the  Parsonage 
at  Slocum  Magna.  Her  sister  Polly  was  pouring  out 
tea  for  seven  in  really  sensible  cups,  and  Miss  Perry 
herself  was  occupied  in  carving  a  piece  of  bread  ac- 
cording to  her  personal  fancy.  At  the  Parsonage 
it  was  the  very  rational  rule  always  to  cut  your  own 
bread  and  spread  your  own  jam;  both  of  which,  be- 


UNWARRANTABLE  BEHAVIOR  OF  TOBIAS   79 

ing  made  at  home,  were  among  the  very  few  things 
of  which  you  could  have  as  much  as  you  wanted. 

It  was  doubtless  an  unfortunate  moment  for  the 
higher  criticism  to  observe  Miss  Perry. 

"  An  extraordinary  creature,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  I  am  reminded  of  some  one,"  said  Miss  Burden, 
"  yet  I  cannot  think  who  it  can  be.  It  is  somebody 
who  is  celebrated." 

"  That  abandoned  straw  hat !  "  said  the  old  lady. 
"  It  appears  to  have  been  originally  used  for  carry- 
ing vegetables." 

"  She  reminds  me  of  some  one,"  said  ^liss  Burden, 
plaintively.     "Who  can  it  be,  I  wonder?" 

And  then  the  unexpected  happened.  Mr.  March- 
banks  announced :  "  The  Earl  of  Cheriton." 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    THROWBACK 

CHERITON  entered,  bearing  a  small  parcel,  with 
a  certain  ostentation. 

"  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  as  I  was  coming  out  of 
Truefitt's  I  remembered  that  for  the  first  time  in 
forty  years  I  had  forgotten  to  give  you  a  present  on 
your  birthday.  Last  year  I  gave  you  a  Bible.  This 
year  I  have  brought  you  this." 

He  cut  the  string  of  the  parcel,  and  handed  the 
present  to  Caroline  Crewkerne. 

With  a  grim,  but  not  ungrateful,  inclination  of  the 
second-best  turban,  the  recipient  began  to  relieve  the 
present  of  its  numerous  trappings.  A  small  but  ex- 
pensive hand-glass  was  exposed  to  view. 

"  Thank  you,  Cheriton.  A  very  charming  pres- 
ent." 

"  I  hope  it  pleases  you,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said 
Cheriton,  with  quite  the  bel  air.  "  You  have  so  long 
defied  time  that  I  felt  a  memento  of  his  impotence 
might  appeal  to  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Cheriton,"  said  the  redoubtable 
Caroline.  "  It  is  very  kind  to  remember  an  old 
woman." 

"  A  woman  is  as  old  as  she  looks,"  said  Cheriton, 
"  as  Byron  says." 

80 


A  THROWBACK  81 

"Byron?" 

"  I  ascribe  every  truism  to  Byron.  It  confers  a 
factitious  importance,  which  at  the  same  time  is  per- 
fectly safe..  Everybody  pretends  to  have  read  Byron, 
yet  nobody  has." 

"  Burden  has  read  him,  I  believe." 

Miss  Burden  sighed  romantically. 

Lord  Cheriton  shook  his  finger  at  Miss  Burden 
with  arch  solemnity. 

"  No  boy  under  the  age  of  twenty  should  be  per- 
mitted to  smoke  cigarettes,"  said  he.  "  And  no 
woman  under  forty  should  be  permitted  to  read 
Byron." 

Caroline  Crewkerne  snorted. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Cheriton,  "  now  I  am  here,  I 
must  pay  homage  to  my  duchess." 

He  took  a  half  turn  in  the  direction  of  the  sofa. 
Miss  Perry  was  still  seated  upon  it  in  her  pensive  atti- 
tude. She  was  still  gazing  into  vacancy,  and  she 
was  somewhat  in  the  shadow. 

Immediately  to  the  left  of  Miss  Perry,  intervening 
between  her  and  Aunt  CaroHne,  was  the  object  that 
claimed  for  the  moment  the  whole  of  Cheriton's  at- 
tention. Rightly  so,  indeed,  for  it  was  nothing  less 
than  one  of  the  world's  masterpieces.  It  was  a  full- 
length  portrait  in  a  massive  gilt  frame :  a  truly  regal 
canvas  in  the  full  meridian  splendor  of  English  art. 
Under  the  picture,  in  bold  letters,  was  the  magic 
legend,  "  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  by  Gains- 
borough." 

Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  was  a  young  girl  in 


82  ARAMINTA 

her  teens,  in  an  inordinately  floppy  hat  of  the  period. 
Her  countenance,  ineffably  simple,  was  a  glamor  of 
pink  and  white;  her  lips  were  slightly  parted;  the 
wonderful  blue  eyes  were  gazing  into  vacancy;  and 
one  finger  was  unmistakably  in  her  mouth. 

Cheriton,  having  fixed  his  glass  with  some  elabora- 
tion, slowly  backed  a  few  paces,  and  yielded  to  the 
pose  he  always  afl*ected  in  the  presence  of  this  noble 
work. 

In  silence  he  stood  to  absorb  the  poetry,  the 
innocence,  the  appeal  of  youth.  He  sighed  pro- 
foundly. 

"  Caroline,"  he  said,  "  I  would  give  a  whole  row 
of  Georgiana  Devonshires  for  this.  In  my  humble 
judgment  it  has  never  been  equaled." 

"  Grandmamma  Dorset  wears  well,"  said  Caroline, 
with  a  grim  chuckle. 

''  It  ought  to  be  called  '  Simplicity  ' ;  it  ought  to 
be  called  '  Innocence.'  Upon  my  word  of  honor, 
Caroline,  I  always  feel  when  I  look  at  the  divine  Ara- 
minta  that  I  want  to  shed  tears." 

Caroline  Crewkerne  snorted. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  I  have  noticed  that  when 
a  man  begins  life  as  a  cynic  he  invariably  ends  as  a 
sentimentalist." 

"  Caroline,"  said  her  old  friend,  sighing  deeply, 
"  you  are  a  pagan.    You  have  no  soul." 

"  Burden  has  a  soul,"  said  the  contemptuous  Caro- 
line. "  In  my  opinion  she  would  be  better  without 
it." 

"  How  ironical  it  is,"  said  Cheriton,  "  that  you. 


A  THROWBACK  83 

who  distrust  art  so  profoundly,  should  have  such  a 
masterpiece  in  your  drawing-room." 

"  I  am  ficiven  to  understand  that  a  committee  would 
Hke  to  buy  it  for  the  nation,"  said  the  owner  of  the 
masterpiece,  with  a  gleam  of  malice. 

"  Caroline,  you  promised  years  ago  that  if  the  time 
ever  came  when  money  could  buy  Araminta  she  should 
go  to  Cheriton  House." 

"  Well,  the  time  has  not  come  yet." 

"  When  it  does  come,  I  shall  hold  you  to  your 
promise." 

While  Cheriton  continued  his  examination  of 
Gainsborough's  masterpiece,  Caroline  Crewkerne  said 
to  her  gentlewoman — 

"  Burden,  get  my  spectacles." 

Cheriton  turned  away  from  the  picture  at  last. 
Naturally  enough  his  gaze  alighted  on  the  sofa. 
Sitting  in  the  center  thereof  was  the  wonderful  Miss 
Perry.  She  was  still  at  Slocum  Magna.  She  had 
got  to  her  third  slice  of  bread  and  jam.  Polly  was 
pouring  out  a  second  sensible  cup.  Dearest  Papa 
had  just  made  one  of  his  jokes.  Charley  and  Milly 
were  conducting  an  argument  as  to  who  was  entitled 
to  the  cake  with  the  currants  in  it.  Miss  Perry's 
blue  eyes  were  unmistakably  moist ;  and  although  she 
was  not  actually  sucking  her  finger,  there  could  be 
no  doubt  that  at  any  moment  she  might  begin  to  do 
so.  And  the  inverted  vegetable  basket  that  crowned 
her  seemed  to  flop  more  than  ever. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  Cheriton  gave  a  little  excla- 
mation.    A  lover  of  beauty  in  all  its  manifestations, 


84  ARAMINTA 

he  had  an  eye  for  nature  as  well  as  for  art.  And 
here,  side  by  side  with  Gainsborough's  masterpiece, 
making  due  allowance  for  a  number  of  trifling  de- 
tails which  did  not  in  the  least  affect  the  subject,  was 
an  almost  exact  replica  of  that  immortal  work.  Cher- 
iton,  in  spite  of  his  foibles,  had  the  seeing  eye. 
Notwithstanding  the  cobbled  boots,  the  print 
frock,  and  the  cloak  with  the  hood,  one  thing  was 
clear.  Here  was  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  in 
the  flesh. 

He  swung  round  to  his  old  friend  with  the  glass 
leaping  out  of  his  eye. 

"  Caroline,"  he  cried,  "  a  throwback !  " 

That  old  woman  gazed  through  her  spectacles  at 
the  occupant  of  the  sofa.  Miss  Perry,  still  at  Slocum 
Magna,  was  debating  seriously  whether  a  fourth  slice 
of  bread  and  jam  was  within  the  range  of  practical 
politics. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline,  coolly,  "  I  believe  you 
are  right." 

Surprise  and  enthusiasm  began  to  work  great 
havoc  with  the  amateur  of  the  fine  arts. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  he,  "  it  is  the  most  won- 
derful thing  I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life.  A  pretty 
trick  of  old  Mother  Nature's." 

"  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline, 
warningly. 

"  A  perfect  throwback !  "  said  that  amateur. 

Once  more  his  gaze  was  brought  to  bear  on  the 
distracting  occupant  of  the  sofa,  whose  hair  was  the 
color  of  daff*odils  and  whose  eyes  reminded  him  of  the 


A  THROWBACK  85 

sky  of  Italy.  He  approached  her  with  an  empresse- 
ment  that  was  tremendous. 

"  I  have  no  need  to  ask,"  said  he,  "  whether  the 
famous  duchess  is  a  kinswoman." 

Miss  Perry  returned  from  Slocum  Magna  with  a 
Httle  start.  She  removed  her  finger  from  her  Hp,  yet 
her  thoughts  were  not  of  famous  duchesses. 

In  the  meantime  the  redoubtable  Caroline  said 
nothing.  All  the  same  she  was  watching  everything 
with  those  relentless  eyes  of  hers. 

Miss  Perry  exhibited  neither  surprise  nor  embar- 
rassment at  being  summoned  so  peremptorily  from 
Slocum  Magna  by  such  a  magnificent  specimen  of  the 
human  race.  Perhaps  her  wonderful  blue  eyes  opened 
a  little  wider  and  she  may  or  she  may  not  have  hoisted 
a  little  color;  but  it  really  seemed  as  though  her 
thoughts  were  more  concerned  with  bread  and  jam 
than  with  Lord  Cheriton. 

"  Will  you  pardon  an  old  worshiper  of  your 
famous  ancestress  if  he  asks  your  name.''  "  said  he. 
"  I  hope  and  believe  it  is  a  legitimate  curiosity." 

Miss  Featherbrain  made  an  effort  to  cease  wool- 
gathering. She  smiled  with  a  friendliness  that  would 
have  disarmed  a  satyr. 

"  My  name  is  Araminta,"  she  drawled  in  her  hope- 
lessly ludicrous  manner,  "  but  they  call  me  Goose  be- 
cause I  am  rather  a  Sil-lay." 

Cheriton  gave  a  chuckle  of  sheer  human  pleasure. 
He  was  to  be  pardoned  for  feeling  that  a  new  delight 
had  been  offered  to  an  existence  which  had  long  ex- 
hausted every  aesthetic  form  of  joy. 


86  ARAMINTA 

"  Your  name  is  Araminta,"  he  repeated  by  a  kind 
of  hypnotic  process,  "  but  they  call  you  Goose  be- 
cause you  are  rather  a  silly." 

Miss  Perry  rewarded  Lord  Cheriton  with  an  indul- 
gent beam.  It  assured  him  that  he  had  had  the  good 
fortune  to  interpret  her  correctly.  It  was  not  easy 
for  that  connoisseur  to  withdraw  his  enchanted  gaze. 
However,  at  last  he  contrived  to  do  so.  He  turned  to 
his  old  friend. 

"  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  the  fairies  have  fulfilled  my 
wish.  I  have  ahvays  wanted  to  meet  a  Gainsborough 
in  the  flesh  and  to  hear  what  she  had  to  say  for  her- 
self. And  now  I  have  done  so  I  know  why  Gainsbor- 
ough painted  'em." 

"  Faugh !  "  said  the  old  lady,  vigorously,  "  senti- 
mentality is  the  national  bane." 

"  No,  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  sadly,  "  you've  no 
soul.     Why  don't  you  present  me?  " 

"  My  niece.  Miss  Perry,"  said  Caroline.  "  Lord 
Cheriton,  my  old  friend." 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do?  "  said  Miss  Perry,  shooting 
forth  her  hand  in  her  own  private  and  particular 
manner  to  Aunt  Caroline's  old  friend.  "  I  hope  you 
are  quite  well." 

The  manner  in  which  Cheriton  enclosed  the  ample 
paw  of  Miss  Perry,  which  nevertheless,  speaking  rela- 
tively, contrived  to  appear  long  and  slender,  in 
his  own  delicately  manicured  fingers  was  almost 
epic. 

"  Miss  Perry,"  said  he,  "  this  is  a  great  moment 
in  my  life." 


A  THROWBACK  87 

"  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline 
Crewkerne  with  great  energy. 

No  one  made  fuller  use  than  that  old  woman  of  the 
privilege  accorded  to  age  of  being  as  rude  as  it 
pleases.  But  it  was  so  necessary  that  the  v/earer  of 
the  vegetable  basket  should  not  get  notions  under  it 
before  she  had  been  in  Hill  Street  an  hour. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Perry,"  said  Cheriton,  with  the 
magniloquent  air  with  which  he  asked  an  occasional 
question  in  the  Hereditary  Chamber,  "  arc  you  ac- 
quainted with  the  vast  metropohs?  " 

"  I  have  always  lived  at  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss 
Perry  with  perfect  simplicity. 

"  Really,"  said  my  lord,  with  an  insincere  surprise. 
""  By  the  way,  where  is  Slocum  ^Nlagna.^^  " 

Doubtless  owing  to  the  fact  that  slie  was  a  duke's 
granddaughter.  Miss  Perry  had  excellent  if  some- 
what rustic  breeding.  Brains  were  not  her  strong 
point,  but  she  had  been  long  enough  in  London  to 
anticipate  almost  instinctively  Lord  Cheriton's  in- 
quiry. Moreover,  her  astonishment  at  the  ignorance 
of  London  people  was  softened  by  the  friendly  indul- 
gence she  extended  to  everybody  on  the  slightest  pre- 
text. 

"  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss  Perry,  without  the 
least  appearance  of  didacticism,  "  is  the  next  village 
to  Widdiford.  They  haven't  quite  got  the  railway  at 
Widdiford  yet,  don't  you  know,  but  it  is  only  three 
miles  away." 

The  absence  of  the  railway  at  Widdiford  appeared 
to  decide  Cheriton  upon  his  course  of  action.     With 


88  ARAMINTA 

the  air  of  a  man  whose  mind  is  quite  made  up,  he  ad- 
dressed the  fair  inhabitant  of  Slocum  Magna,  North 
Devon. 

"  As  an  old  friend  of  your  accomplished  aunt's," 
said  he,  "  of  many  years'  standing,  I  feel  that  during 
your  sojourn  in  the  vast  metropolis  it  is  only  wise 
and  right  that  I  should  act,  as  it  were,  in  loco  pa- 
rentis.'" 

Although  Miss  Perry's  papa  was  a  very  good 
classic,  he  had  been  unable  to  communicate  liis  excel- 
lence in  the  dead  languages  to  his  second  daughter. 
Miss  Perry  made  no  secret  of  the  fact  that  she  had 
an  earnest  desire  for  a  little  more  enlightenment. 

"  A  sort  of  combination,  you  know,"  said  Cheriton, 
lucidly,  "  of  a  courier  and  a  cicerone  and  a  sincere 
well-wisher.  One  feels  sure  it  will  help  you  at  first  to 
have  some  one  to  guide  you  through  the  traffic." 

"  Burden  is  quite  competent  to  see  that  she  doesn't 
get  run  over,"  said  the  accomplished  aunt  of  Miss 
Perry. 

"  Also,  my  dear  Miss  Perry,"  said  Cheriton,  mel- 
lifluously,  "  you  may  require  a  little  advice  occasion- 
ally from  a  man  of  the  world.  The  vast  metropolis 
is  full  of  pitfalls  for  your  sex." 

"  We  have  poachers  at  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss 
Perry. 

"  The  metropolis  is  different,"  said  Cheriton.  "  I 
regret  to  say  it  harbors  every  known  form  of  wicked- 
ness." 

Miss  Perry's  eyes  opened  so  wide  that  they  seemed 
to  magnetize  my  lord. 


A  THROWBACK  89 

"  Are  there  r-r-robbers  ?  " 

"  A  great  number.  They  lurk  in  every  thorough- 
fare. If  you  are  really  unacquainted  with  the  vast 
metropolis  I  urgently  recommend  advice  and  protec- 
tion." 

"  How  splendid !  "  said  Miss  Perry.  "  I  shall  write 
to  tell  Muffin." 

"  Would  it  be  an  unpardonable  curiosity  if  one 
inquired  who  is  Muffin  ?  " 

"  My  sister,  don't  you  know ;  her  name  is  Elizabeth 
really.  But  we  call  her  Muffin  because  she  is  rather 
a  ragamuffin." 

"  Your  family  appears  to  be  a  singularly  in- 
teresting one,  if  one  may  presume  to  form  an 
estimate." 

"  Papa  says  we  are  none  of  us  very  bright,  but  we 
are  all  of  us  very  healthy,  except  Doggo,  who  has  had 
the  mange  twice." 

My  lord  found  it  necessary  to  repeat  the  dictum  of 
Miss  Perry's  papa.  He  then  sat  down  beside  her  in 
a  truly  paternal  manner. 

"  Tell  me  about  your  papa,"  said  he,  musically. 
"  I  am  immensely  interested  in  him.  One  feels  one 
ought  to  have  so  many  things  in  common  with  such 
a  papa  as  yours." 

"  Papa  is  just  as  sweet "  began  Miss  Perry, 

with  a  perfectly  delightful  fervency.  But  she  got  no 
farther. 

Aunt  Caroline  uplifted  an  immutable  finger. 

"  Araminta,"  said  she,  "  it  is  time  you  went  up  to 
dress.     Burden,  take  her  to  her  room." 


90  ARAMINTA 

Miss  Perry  rose  at  once  with  a  docility  that  was 
charming.  She  bestowed  her  most  frankly  indulgent 
beam  upon  Lord  Cheriton,  and  quitted  the  drawing- 
room  in  Miss  Burden's  custody. 

Cheriton  screwed  his  glass  into  his  astonished  eye 
to  gaze  after  such  magnificence. 

"  A  goddess !  "  said  he.  "  Juno !  A  great  work 
of  nature." 

He  prepared  to  take  his  leave. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  your  memory 
begins  to  fail  a  little." 

"  Rubbish." 

"  Do  you  know  how  long  it  is  since  you  asked  me 
to  dine  with  you.''  " 

"  You  refused  three  times  running.  I  am 
determined  that  no  human  being  shall  refuse  a 
fourth." 

"  Well,  you  know,"  said  Cheriton,  coolly,  "  you 
were  just  a  little  difficult  the  last  twice  I  dined  with 
you,  and  the  wine  was  abominable.  And  with  all  that 
excellent  claret  that  you  have,  and  that  '63  port, 
and  that  really  priceless  madeira — really,  Caroline, 
considering  what  your  cellar  can  do  if  it  chooses,  the 
wine  was  unpardonable.  Still,  I  am  in  no  sense  a  vin- 
dictive man.     I'll  dine  with  you  this  evening." 

"  Thank  you,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline,  dryly. 
"  Eight  o'clock." 

"  Eight  o'clock." 

My  lord  took  his  leave  with  a  jauntiness  that  re- 
called the  vanished  era  of  his  youth. 

Two  hours  later  the  noble  earl  was  back  in  Hill 


A  THROWBACK  91 

Street.  He  looked  particularly  soigne  in  the  choicest 
of  evening  clothes.  They  fitted  his  corseted  form  to 
perfection. 

"  Where  is  the  fair  Miss  Araminta  ? "  said  he, 
yielding  his  arm  to  his  hostess. 

"  My  niece  is  dining  upstairs  this  evening,"  said 
Caroline  Crewkerne. 

Profoundly  distrusting  the  appearance  of  the 
sherry  and  the  claret,  the  guest  made  a  modest  de- 
mand for  whisky  and  soda.  The  fare  was  scanty, 
but  what  there  was  of  it  was  not  ill  cooked.  Also 
Caroline  was  not  so  tiresome  as  he  had  anticipated. 
Doubtless  she  was  a  little  exhilarated  by  the  doings 
of  the  day.  She  was  a  very  sharp-witted  old  woman. 
Her  shrewdness  had  already  foreseen  that  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  highly  original  niece  in  a  somewhat 
moribund  menage  might  bring  renegades  back  to  Hill 
Street  craving  pardon.  A  glimpse  of  the  immediate 
future  was  afforded  by  the  spectacle  of  a  peculiarly 
spick  and  span  Cheriton  seated  between  Miss  Burden 
and  herself. 

The  turn  of  events  lent  an  old-time  pungency  to 
what  had  once  ranked  as  the  most  malicious  tongue  in 
London. 

"  Upon  my  honor,"  said  the  enchanted  guest,  "  my 
dear  Caroline,  you  are  quite  at  your  high-water  mark 
this  evening." 

Caroline  valued  that  kind  of  compliment,  and  she 
acquiesced  in  it  grimly.  Cheriton's  remark  was  quite 
sincere ;  and  in  order  to  attest  his  bona  fides  he  told  a 
story  that  caused  Miss  Burden  to  spill  the  salt,  while 


92  ARAMINTA 

only  the  intervention  of  a  miracle  averted  a  more 
signal  disaster  to  the  claret. 

Cheriton  was  duly  rewarded.  By  the  time  they 
had  got  to  the  mahogany — Caroline  Crewkerne  was 
a  stickler  for  old  fashions — the  hostess  said  in  an 
aside  to  Mr.  Marchbanks,  "  The  madeira  and  the  '63 
port  wine." 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Cheriton  was  sus- 
tained throughout  a  not  particularly  exhilarating 
function  by  the  hope  of  seeing  the  peerless  Miss  Ara- 
minta  in  the  drawing-room  afterwards.  In  this,  how- 
ever, he  was  disappointed.  The  tardy  minutes 
passed,  but  Miss  Araminta  did  not  appear.  At  last 
in  desperation  he  was  moved  to  inquire — 

"  Where  hides  the  reluctant  fair  ?  " 

"  Speak  English,  Cheriton." 

"  The  adorable  Miss  Perry." 

"  The  creature  is  in  bed,"  said  Caroline,  incis- 
ively. "  It  is  a  long  journey  from  Slocum  Magna 
for  a  growing  girl." 

"  Is  one  given  to  understand  that  she  made  the 
whole  journey  in  a  single  day.f^  " 

"  In  something  under  twenty-four  hours,  I  be- 
lieve," said  Caroline.  "  Express  trains  travel  at  such 
a  remarkable  rate  in  these  days." 

In  the  circumstances  there  was  only  one  thing  for 
Cheriton  to  do,  and  this  he  did.    He  took  his  leave. 

In  the  privacy  of  his  hansom  on  the  way  to  the 
Gaiety  Theatre  he  ruminated  exceedingly. 

"  That  old  woman,"  he  mused,  "  has  got  all  the 
trumps  in  her  hand  again.    A  disagreeable  old  thing, 


A  THROWBACK  93 

but  she  does  know  how  to  play  her  cards  when  she 
gets  'em." 

The  stall  next  to  Cheriton's  was  in  the  occupation 
of  no  less  a  person  than  George  Betterton. 

"  Hallo,  George,"  said  he ;  "  you  in  London !  " 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George,  heavily.  He  did  not  seem 
to  be  altogether  clear  upon  the  point.  "  The  War 
Office  people  are  in  their  usual  mess  with  the  Militia." 

"  But  she  is  at  Biarritz." 

"  I  have  another  one  now,"  said  George,  succinctly. 

The  noise  and  flamboyance  of  the  ballet  rendered 
further  conversation  undesirable.  However,  Cheriton 
took  up  the  thread  of  discourse  at  the  end  of  the  act. 

"  George,"  said  he,  with  considerable  solemnity, 
"  like  myself  you  have  grown  old  in  the  love  of  art." 

George's  assent  was  of  the  gruff^est.  Cheriton  was 
going  to  be  a  bore  as  usual. 

"  You  remember  that  Gainsborough  of  Caroline 
Crewkerne's  .f^  " 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George.  "  I  offered  her  twenty 
thousand  pounds  for  it  for  the  Cheadle  Collection." 

"  Did  you,  though !  Well,  mind  you  don't  renew 
the  offer.  The  refusal  of  it  w^as  promised  to  me  in 
Crewkerne's  lifetime." 

George  began  to  gobble  furiously.  He  looked  as 
though  he  wanted  to  call  some  one  a  liar. 

"  Well,  it's  too  soon  to  quarrel  over  it,"  said  Cher- 
iton, pacifically,  "  because  she  doesn't  intend  to  part 
with  it  to  anybody  at  present." 

"  She's  a  perverse  old  woman,"  said  George,  "  and 
age  don't  improve  her." 


94  ARAMINTA 

"  I  mentioned  her  Gainsborough,"  said  Cheriton, 
who  was  on  the  rack  of  his  own  enthusiasm,  "  because 
a  very  odd  thing  has  happened.  The  original  of  that 
picture  has  found  her  way  into  Hill  Street." 

"  What !  Grandmother  Dorset !  "  said  George,  con- 
temptuously. "  Why,  she's  been  in  her  grave  a  hun- 
dred years." 

"  An  absolute  throwback  has  turned  up  at  Hill 
Street,"  said  Cheriton,  impressively.  "  If  you  want 
to  see  a  living  and  breathing  Gainsborough  walking 
and  talking  in  twentieth-century  London  call  on  Caro- 
line Crewkerne  some  wet  afternoon." 

George  Betterton  was  not  at  all  aesthetically 
minded.  But  like  so  many  of  his  countrymen  he  al- 
ways had  a  taste  for  "  something  fresh." 

"  I  will,"  he  said.  And  he  spoke  as  if  he  meant 
it. 

Then  it  was  that  Cheriton  grew  suddenly  alive  to 
the  magnitude  of  his  indiscretion.  Really  he  had 
acted  with  consummate  folly !  He  had  a  clear  start 
of  all  the  field,  yet  through  an  unbridled  natural  en- 
thusiasm and  a  lifelong  love  of  imparting  informa- 
tion he  must  needs  within  an  hour  set  one  of  the  most 
dangerous  men  in  England  upon  the  scent. 

George  Betterton  had  his  limitations,  but  where 
the  other  sex  was  concerned  he  was  undoubtedly  that, 
as  Cheriton  had  reason  to  know.  A  widower  of  nine 
and  fifty,  who  had  buried  two  wives  without  finding 
an  heir  to  his  great  estates,  there  was  little  doubt 
that  he  meant  to  come  up  to  the  scratch  for  the  third 
time,  although  to  be  sure  of  late  his  courses  had  not 


A  THROWBACK  95 

seemed  to  lead  in  that  direction.  But  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne,  who  knew  most  things,  seemed  quite  clear  upon 
the  point. 

Yes,  George  Betterton's  "  I  will  "  had  a  sinister 
sound  about  it.  Cheriton  himself  was  five  and  sixty 
and  a  bachelor,  and  in  his  heart  of  hearts  he  had 
good  reason  to  believe  that  he  was  not  a  marrying 
man.  He  had  long  owed  his  primal  duty  to  a  posi- 
tion in  the  world ;  and,  to  the  scorn  of  his  family  and 
the  amusement  of  his  friends,  he  had  not  yet  fulfilled 
it.  He  was  too  fond  of  adventures,  he  declared  ro- 
mantically— a  confession  that  a  man  old  enough  to 
be  a  grandfather  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  make,  de- 
clared the  redoubtable  Caroline,  with  her  most  fear- 
some snort.  More  than  once,  it  is  true,  Cheriton  had 
fancied  he  had  seen  the  writing  on  the  wall.  But 
when  his  constitutional  apathy  permitted  him  to  ex- 
amine it  more  closely,  he  found  it  had  been  written 
for  some  one  else. 

However,  he  had  come  away  from  Hill  Street  that 
evening  in  such  a  state  of  suppressed  enthusiasm, 
that  in  his  present  mood  he  was  by  no  means  sure 
that  he  had  not  seen  the  writing  again.  It  was  cer- 
tainly odd  that  a  man  with  his  record  and  at  his 
time  of  life  should  have  any  such  feeling.  But  there 
is  no  accounting  for  these  things.  Therefore  he  left 
the  theater  with  an  idea  taking  root  in  him  that  he 
had  been  guilty  of  an  act  of  gross  folly  in  blowing 
the  trumpet  so  soon.  Why  should  he  help  to  play 
Caroline's  game?  He  should  have  left  it  to  her  to 
summon  this  Richmond  to  the  field. 


96  ARAMINTA 

"  Caroline  will  lead  him  a  dance,  tliough,"  mused 
Cheriton  on  the  threshold  of  Ward's.  "  And  I  know 
how  to  handle  the  ribands  bettc ;  'han  he  does.  He's 
got  the  mind  of  a  dromedary,  thank  God !  " 

In  the  meantime  the  cause  of  these  reflections  was 
lying  very  forlorn  and  very  wide-awake  in  the  most 
imposing  chamber  in  which  she  had  ever  slept.  The 
bed  was  large,  but  cold;  the  chintz  hangings  were 
immaculate,  but  unsympathetic ;  the  engravings  of 
classical  subjects  and  of  august  relations  whom  she 
had  never  seen  with  which  the  walls  were  hung,  the 
austere  magnificence  of  the  furniture,  and  the  expen- 
sive nature  of  the  bric-a-brac,  made  Miss  Perry  yearn 
exceedingly  for  the  cheerful  simplicity  of  Slocum 
Magna. 

Almost  as  far  back  as  Miss  Perry  could  remem- 
ber, it  had  been  given  to  her  before  attempting  re- 
pose to  beat  Muffin  over  the  head  with  a  pillow.  But 
in  this  solemn  piece  of  upholstery,  which  apparently 
had  been  designed  for  an  empress,  such  friendly  hap- 
penings as  these  were  out  of  the  question. 

However,  she  had  Tobias  with  her.  The  wicker 
basket  was  on  a  little  lacquered  table  beside  her  bed ; 
and  as  she  lay,  with  a  slow  and  silent  tear  squeezing 
itself  at  regular  intervals  out  of  her  blue  eyes,  she 
had  her  right  hand  resting  firmly  but  aff'ectionately 
on  the  lid  of  Tobias's  local  habitation.  That  quaint 
animal,  all  unconscious  of  the  honor  done  to  him,  was 
wrapped  in  slumber,  with  his  ugly  brown  nose  tucked 
under  his  lean  brown  paws. 

Thus  was  Miss  Perry  discovered  at  a  quarter  to 


A  THROWBACK  97 

eleven  that  evening  when  Miss  Burden  entered  to 
embrace  her. 

"  I  want  to  go  home  to  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss 
Perry,  with  a  drawl  and  a  sob  whose  united  effect 
must  have  been  supremely  ridiculous  had  it  not  been 
the  offspring  of  legitimate  pathos. 

Miss  Burden  offered  her  the  consolation  of  one 
intimately  acquainted  with  pathos.  Every  night  for 
many  long  and  weary  years  she  had  longed  to  go 
home  to  her  own  rustic  hermitage,  which,  however, 
had  no  existence  outside  her  fancy. 

"  Dearest  Araminta,"  said  Miss  Burden,  caressing 
her  affectionately,  "  you  will  soon  get  used  to  the 
strangeness." 

"  I  want  to  go  home  to  Slocum  Magna,"  sobbed 
Miss  Perry. 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  a  good  and  brave  and  noble 
girl,"  said  Miss  Burden,  who  believed  profoundly  in 
goodness  and  bravery  and  nobility. 

"  Papa  said  I  was,"  sobbed  Miss  Perry,  settling 
her  hand  more  firmly  than  ever  upon  the  basket  of 
Tobias. 

"  To-morrow  you  will  feel  happier,  Araminta  dear- 
est," said  Miss  Burden,  bestowing  a  final  hug  upon 
the  distressed  Miss  Perry. 

Miss  Burden  was  guilty  of  saying  that  which  she 
did  not  believe,  but  let  us  hope  no  one  will  blame  her. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"  CAROLINE    CREWKERNE's    GAINSBOROUGH  " 

FROM  the  moment  that  "  Caroline  Crewkerne's 
Gainsborough  "  came  upon  the  town  there  was 
no  denying  her  success.  She  was  a  new  sensation ; 
and  happy  in  her  sponsors  the  diminished  glories  of 
Hill  Street  emerged  from  their  eclipse.  If  old  Lady 
Crewkerne  derived  a  grim  satisfaction  from  the  abso- 
lute possession  of  the  nine  days'  wonder,  Cheriton  was 
one  of  the  proudest  and  happiest  men  in  London.  He 
took  to  himself  the  whole  merit  of  the  discovery. 

"  I  assure  you,"  he  declared  to  a  circle  of  the  elect, 
"  that  blind  old  woman  would  never  have  seen  the 
likeness.  It  was  quite  providential  that  I  happened 
to  look  in  and  point  it  out." 

In  matters  of  art  Cheriton's  taste  was  really  fas- 
tidious. And  in  addition  to  his  other  foibles  no  man 
was  more  susceptible  to  beauty.  Every  morning  for 
a  week  he  called  at  Hill  Street,  to  view  his  discovery 
more  adequately  in  the  full  light  of  day.  It  was  in 
vain,  however,  that  he  tried  to  surprise  her.  She  was 
kept  very  close. 

For  one  thing  the  creature  had  positively  no  clothes 
in  which  to  submit  to  the  ordeal  of  the  public  gaze. 
Almost  the  first  thing  Caroline  Crewkerne  did  was  to 
send  for  her  dressmaker,    who    was    commanded  to 

98 


*'  CREWKERNE'S  GAINSBOROUGH  "        99 

make  Miss  Perry  "  appear  respectable,"  and  was 
given  only  three  days  in  which  to  perform  the  opera- 
tion. 

"  I  assure  your  ladyship  it  is  impossible  in  three 
days,"  said  the  dressmaker. 

"  If  that  is  your  opinion,"  said  her  ladyship,  "  I 
shall  go  elsewhere." 

As  it  was  her  ladyship's  custom  to  pay  her  bills 
quarterly,  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  Miss 
Perry  came  down  to  breakfast  in  a  blue-serge  cos- 
tume. It  was  rigid  in  outline  and  formal  in  cut.  In 
fact,  it  had  been  chosen  by  Miss  Burden,  and  had 
been  wrought  in  the  style  affected  by  that  model  of 
reticent  good  taste. 

It  was  in  this  attire,  surmounted  by  a  straw  hat  of 
the  regulation  type  in  lieu  of  the  inverted  vegetable 
basket,  that  Cheriton  saw  Miss  Perry  for  the  second 
time. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Caroline?  "  said  he 
tragically.  "Where  is  your  instinct?  It  is  a  gross 
act  of  vandalism  to  consign  a  genuine  Gainsborough 
to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  woman's  tailor." 

"  Pooh,"  said  Caroline. 

All  the  same  Cheriton  was  roused  to  action.  At 
noon  next  day  a  cab  appeared  at  the  door  of  Caro- 
line's residence.  It  contained  a  milliner  and  twenty- 
two  hats  in  twenty-two  boxes.  The  milliner  said  she 
had  instructions  to  wait  for  Lord  Cheriton. 

The  redoubtable  Caroline's  first  instinct  was  to 
order  the  milliner  off  the  premises. 

"  Gross  impertinence,"  she  declared. 


100  ARAMINTA 

However,  the  perverse  old  v/oman  had  a  liberal 
share  of  reason.  Cheriton  had  his  foibles,  but  em- 
phatically he  knew  on  which  side  of  the  bread  to 
look  for  the  butter.  In  all  matters  relating  to  this 
world,  from  racehorses  to  French  millinery,  wise  peo- 
ple respected  his  judgment. 

At  five  minutes  after  midday  Cheriton  liimself  ap- 
peared in  the  company  of  an  amiable,  courteous,  and 
distinguished  foreigner. 

"What,  pray,  is  the  meaning  of  this  invasion.'^" 
said  Caroline,  with  a  snort  of  hostility. 

"  This  is  Monsieur  Duprez,"  said  Cheriton,  "  the 
great  genius  who  comes  to  London  twice  a  year  from 
Raquin's  at  Paris." 

Monsieur  Duprez,  overwhelmed  by  this  melodious 
flattery,  very  nearly  touched  the  Persian  carpet  with 
his  nose.     Caroline  scowled  at  him. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  who  has  given  you 
authority  to  turn  my  house  into  a  dressmaker's 
shop.?" 

"  I  have  the  authority,"  said  Cheriton,  "  of  a  pure 
taste  un vitiated  by  Whig  prejudice  and  Victorian 
tradition.  Miss  Burden,  will  you  have  the  great 
goodness  to  summon  Nature's  masterpiece  so  that 
Art,  her  handmaiden,  may  make  an  obeisance  to 
her ;  and  might  I  also  suggest  that  you  procure  Lady 
Crewkerne's  knitting?  " 

Miss  Burden,  thrilled  by  the  unmistakable  impact 
of  romance,  waited  with  animation  for  permission  to 
obey  my  lord. 

"  I  will  not  have  my  niece  tricked  out  like  a  play- 


"  CREWKERNE'S  C  Al'NSBOROUGH  '      101 

actress,"  said  Caroline.  "  Cheriton,  understand  that 
clearly." 

Cheriton,  feeling  his  position  to  be  impregnable, 
was  as  cool  as  you  please.  As  is  the  case  with  so 
many  people,  his  coolness  bordered  upon  insolence. 
Caroline  was  so  much  the  slave  of  her  worldly  wis- 
dom that  in  a  case  of  this  kind  she  would  be  compelled 
to  bow  the  knee  to  an  array  of  acknowledged  experts. 
Besides,  it  was  so  easy  for  Cheriton  to  justify  him- 
self in  the  most  dramatic  manner.  He  pointed  his- 
trionically to  the  world-famous  Duchess  of  Dorset. 

"  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  if  you  will  take  the  advice 
of  an  old  friend  you  will  attend  to  your  knitting. 
Three  experts  are  present.  They  can  be  trusted  to 
deal  with  this  matter  effectually.  Indeed,  I  might 
say  four.  Miss  Burden,  I  know  you  to  be  in  cordial 
sympathy  with  the  highest  in  whatever  form  it  may 
manifest  itself.  Therefore  I  entreat  3'OU,  particu- 
larly as  the  time  of  Monsieur  Duprez  and  Madame  Pe- 
lissier  belongs  not  to  themselves,  nor  to  us,  but  to 
civilization,  to  produce  our  great  work  of  Na- 
ture, in  order  that  her  handmaiden  Art  may  deck 
her." 

Caroline's  hostile  upper  lip  took  a  double  curl,  a 
feat  which  was  the  outcome  of  infinite  practice  in  the 
expression  of  scorn. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  put  ideas  into  the  creature's 
head,  that's  all,"  said  she.  "  Fortunately  she  is  such 
a  born  simpleton  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  she  is 
capable  of  retaining  any.  Burden,  you  may  fetch 
her." 


10'^  AflAMINTA 

It  was  a  charming  April  morning,  and  the  sun- 
shine was  flooding  the  room.  It  made  a  canopy  for 
Miss  Perry  as  she  came  in  simply  and  modestly 
through  the  drawing-room  door.  At  once  it  chal- 
lenged that  wonderful  yellow  mane  of  hers  that  was 
the  color  of  daffodils,  which  on  its  own  part  seemed 
to  reciprocate  the  flashing  caresses  of  the  light  of 
the  morning.  The  yellow  mane  appeared  to  grow  in- 
candescent and  shoot  out  little  lights  of  its  own.  The 
glamor  of  pink  and  white  and  azure  was  very  won- 
derful, too,  as  the  sunlight  wantoned  with  it  in  its 
own  inimitable  manner.  Here  was  Juno  indeed,  and 
none  recognized  the  fact  so  clearly  as  the  Prince  of 
the  Morning. 

Monsieur  Duprez's  eyes  sparkled ;  Madame  Pelissier 
gave  a  little  exclamation. 

"  You  have  here  a  great  subject,"  said  Lord 
Cheriton  to  those  rare  artists.  "  And  there  you  have 
the  manner  in  which  the  great  Gainsborough  treated 
it." 

Madame  Pelissier  disclosed  her  creations.  Hat 
after  hat  was  fitted  to  the  daff*odil-colored  mane. 
Cheriton  hovered  round  and  round  the  young  god- 
dess, surveying  each  separate  eff^ect  from  every  point 
of  view.  His  gravity  could  not  have  been  excelled 
by  a  minister  of  state. 

"  They  must  be  enormous,"  said  he,  with  ever- 
mounting  enthusiasm.  "  They  must  sit  at  the  per- 
fect angle.  They  must  be  of  the  hue  of  the  wing 
of  the  raven.  Yes,  feathers  decidedly.  And  they 
must  flop  like  the  dooce." 


"  CREWKERNE'S  GAINSBOROUGH  "      103 

"  Cheriton,"  said  the  warning  voice,  "  don't  be  a 
coxcomb." 

"  Yes,  I  like  that  wicker-work  arrangement.  The 
way  it  flops  is  capital.  It  will  do  for  week-days.  But 
there  must  be  one  for  Sunday  mornings  in  which  to 
go  to  church." 

Madame  Pelissier  was  inclined  to  be  affronted  by 
Cheriton's  extreme  fastidiousness.  There  was  not  a 
single  creation  in  the  whole  collection  which  had  quite 
got  "  that,"  he  declared,  snapping  his  fingers  in  the 
manner  of  Sir  Joshua. 

"  Madame  Pelissier,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "  it  comes 
to  this.  You  will  have  to  invoke  your  genius  to  create 
a  Sunday  hat  for  Juno.  You  observe  what  Gains- 
borough did  for  her  great-grandmamma.  Mark  well 
that  masterpiece,  dear  Madame  Pelissier,  for  je 
prends  mon  bien  ou  je  le  trouve." 

"  Carte  blanche,  milor.?  "  said  Madame  Pelissier, 
with  a  little  shrug. 

"  Absolument,"  said  my  lord.  "  Give  a  free  rein 
to  your  genius,  ma  chere  madame.  Crown  the  young 
goddess  with  the  noblest  creation  that  ever  conse- 
crated the  drab  pavement  of  Bond  Street." 

"  I  warn  you,  Cheriton,"  said  the  aunt  of  the 
young  goddess,  "  I  will  not  have  the  creature  figged 
out  like  a  ballet-dancer  or  a  female  in  a  circus." 

"  Peace,  Caroline.  Where  is  your  knitting?  "  He 
shook  a  finger  of  warning  at  her.  "  Really,  Caroline, 
you  must  refrain  from  philistine  observations  in  the 
presence  of  those  who  are  dedicated  to  the  service 
of  art." 


104  ARAMINTA 

Caroline  snorted  with  great  energy. 

Monsieur  Duprez,  crowing  with  dehght,  was  ab- 
sorbing Gainsborough's  masterpiece. 

"  I  haf  it,"  said  he,  tapping  the  center  of  his  fore- 
head, "  ze  very  ting." 

"  May  it  prove  so,  my  dear  Duprez,  for  then  we 
shall  have  a  nine  days'  wonder  for  the  town." 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the  beginning  "  Caro- 
line Crewkerne's  Gainsborough,"  as  she  was  so  soon 
to  be  christened  by  the  privileged  few  who  write  the 
labels  of  history,  owed  much  to  Cheriton's  foresight, 
judgment,  and  undoubted  talent  for  stage  manage- 
ment. 

She  really  made  her  debut  at  Saint  Sepulchre's 
Church — in  which  sacred  and  fashionable  edifice,  I 
regret  to  say,  her  aunt  Caroline  was  an  infrequent 
worshiper — and  afterwards  in  Hyde  Park  on  the 
second  Sunday  morning  in  May. 

At  least  a  fortnight  before  the  great  occasion 
Cheriton  had  declared  his  intention  to  the  powers  that 
obtained  in  Hill  Street  of  making  Miss  Perry  known 
to  London  on  the  first  really  bright  and  warm  Sun- 
day morning  that  came  along.  Thanks  to  the  be- 
havior of  providence,  her  church-going  clothes  ar- 
rived the  evening  before  the  weather ;  whilst  only  a 
few  hours  previously  a  deft-fingered  jewel  of  a  maid 
had  arrived  expressly  from  Paris,  at  the  instance  of 
the  experts,  who  was  learned  in  the  set  of  the  most 
marvelous  frocks  and  hats,  and  who  also  was  a  rare 
artist  In  the  human  hair. 

Therefore  let  none  confess  to  surprise  that  Miss 


"  CREWKERNE'S  G  \INSBOROUGH  "      105 

Perry  was  the  innocent  cause  of  some  excitement 
when  she  burst  upon  an  astonished  world.  Mr. 
Marchbanks  was  the  first  to  behold  Miss  Perry,  when 
on  this  historic  second  Sunday  morning  in  May  she 
quitted  the  privacy  of  her  chamber  fittingly  clothed 
to  render  homage  to  her  Maker.  He  beheld  her  as 
she  came  down  the  marble  staircase  in  an  enormous 
black  hat  with  a  wonderful  feather,  a  miracle  of  har- 
monious daring,  and  in  a  lilac  frock,  not  answering, 
it  is  true,  in  every  detail  to  that  in  which  her  famous 
great-grandmamma  had  been  painted  by  Gainsbor- 
ough, but  none  the  less  a  triumph  for  all  concerned 
in  it.  However,  to  judge  by  the  demeanor  of  shocked 
stupefaction  of  the  virtuous  man  who  first  encoun- 
tered it,  who  himself  was  about  to  accompany  Mrs. 
Plunket  to  Divine  worship,  this  was  an  achievement 
that  was  not  to  the  taste  of  everybody.  In  the  opin- 
ion of  Mr.  Marchbanks  it  might  be  magnificent,  but 
it  was  not  religion. 

By  one  of  those  coincidences  in  which  real  life  in- 
dulges so  recklessly.  Miss  Perry  had  not  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs  when  Cheriton,  duly  admitted  by 
John,  and  himself  armed  cap-a-pie  for  Divine  wor- 
ship in  a  brand-new  wig,  with  freshly  dyed  mustache, 
light  gray  trousers,  lilac  gloves,  white  gaiters,  and  a 
gardenia  in  his  buttonhole,  was  enabled  to  take  up  a 
strategical  position  in  the  entrance-hall. 

His  greeting  was  almost  as  melodramatic  as  his 
appearance. 

"  A  positive  triumph !  "  he  cried.  "  My  dear  young 
lady — my    dear   Miss    Perry — my    dear    Miss   Ara- 


106  ARAMINTA 

minta,  the  highest  hopes  of  a  sanguine  temperament 
have  been  exceeded.  Art,  the  handmaiden,  has  done 
her  work  nobly,  but  of  course  the  real  triumph  be- 
longs to  Nature." 

"  Isn't  my  new  frock  a  nice  one.?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 

''  Incomparable." 

"  It  is  almost  as  nice  as  the  mauve  one  Muffin  had 
last  summer  but  one,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

It  seemed  to  Cheriton  that  the  speech  of  Miss 
Perry  was  absurdly  suited  to  her  clothes.  He  led  her 
proudly  to  the  morning-room. 

"  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  prepare  for  the  conquest  of 
London." 

That  old  woman  had  never  looked  so  fierce.  As  a 
preliminary  she  snuffed  the  air. 

"  Burden,"  said  she,  "  cease  behaving  like  a  fool 
and  have  the  goodness  to  get  my  spectacles." 

Miss  Burden  obeyed  her  in  a  kind  of  delirium. 
The  scrutiny  of  the  powers  was  severe  and  prolonged. 
There  was  no  approbation  in  it. 

"  An  old-fashioned  respect  for  the  English  Sun- 
day," said  Caroline,  "  precludes  my  going  to  church 
with  a  tableau  vivant." 

Cheriton  scorned  her  openly. 

"  You  perverse  woman,"  said  he,  "  why  are  you  so 
blind.'*  Here  is  a  triumph  that  will  ring  through  the 
town.  Are  you  prepared  to  identify  yourself  with  it 
or  are  you  not  ?  " 

Caroline  Crewkerne  subjected  her  niece  to  a  second 
prolonged  and  severe  scrutiny. 

"  Humph,"  said  she,  ungraciously. 


"  CREWKERNE'S  GAINSBOROUGH  "      107 

However,  she  was  a  very  shrewd  old  woman.  Fur- 
ther, she  was  a  very  clear-sighted  old  woman,  who 
knew  herself  to  be  what  Cheriton  did  not  hesitate  to 
proclaim  her.  She  was  a  philistine.  Upon  any  mat- 
ter which  impinged  upon  life's  amenities  she  was  far 
too  wise  to  trust  her  own  judgment.  Cheriton,  on 
the  other  hand,  in  spite  of  an  inclination  towards 
the  bizarre  and  the  freakish,  she  allowed  to  have 
taste. 

"  I  shall  go  to  church,"  she  announced  to  her  gen- 
tlewoman. 

She  spoke  as  if  she  were  flinging  down  a  gauntlet. 

The  Church  of  Saint  Sepulchre,  as  the  elect  do 
not  need  to  be  told,  is  quite  near  to  Hill  Street.  Caro- 
line Crewkerne  was  ready  to  start  ten  minutes  before 
the  service  began. 

"  Easy,  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  studying  his 
watch  reflectively ;  "  there  is  no  hurry." 

"  Even  if  they  bore  one,"  said  Caroline,  "  it  is  not 
good  manners  to  be  disrespectful  to  the  officiating 
clergy." 

Cheriton,  however,  although  he  advanced  no  posi- 
tive reasons  why  disrespect  should  be  off'ered  to  the 
officiating  clergy,  showed  a  marked  disposition  for 
Divine  Service  to  begin  without  him.  He  loitered  and 
loitered  upon  absurdly  flimsy  pretexts.  And  just  as 
the  procession  was  about  to  start  from  the  door  of 
Caroline's  residence  he  mislaid  his  umbrella. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  WHICH  CHERITON   DROPS   HIS   UMBRELLA 

'*1^TEVER  mind  jour  umbrella,"  said  Caroline, 
iM      tartly. 

"  I  must  mind  my  umbrella,"  said  Cheriton,  plain- 
tively. "  If  one  attends  Divine  worship  in  London  in 
the  middle  of  the  season  without  one's  umbrella,  one 
is  bound  to  be  taken  for  an  agnostic." 

"  John,"  demanded  Caroline,  "  what  have  you  done 
with  his  lordship's  umbrella.?  " 

"  You  placed  it  here,  my  lord,"  said  John,  indi- 
cating an  umbrella  with  an  ivory  handle  and  a  gold 
band. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Cheriton.  "  I  don't  own  an 
umbrella  with  an  ivory  handle." 

John  looked  at  the  gold  band  and  assured  his  lord- 
ship imperturbably  that  his  name  was  upon  it.  Cher- 
iton examined  it  himself. 

"  It  is  the  name  of  my  father,"  said  he.  "  How 
the  dooce  did  an  umbrella  with  an  ivory  handle  come 
into  the  possession  of  my  father !  " 

The  clock  in  the  hall  slowly  chimed  eleven.  The 
procession  started  for  Saint  Sepulchre's  with  the  re- 
doubtable Caroline  in  a  decidedly  unchristian  temper, 
with  Miss  Burden  profoundly  uncomfortable,  with 
Miss  Perry  innocently  absorbed  in  her  new  frock  and 

108 


CHERITON  DROPS  HIS  UMBRELLA     109 

preoccupied  with  the  modest  hope  that  the  passers- 
by  would  notice  it ;  whilst  Cheriton  walked  by  her 
side  apparently  without  a  thought  in  his  head 
save  the  ethical  significance  of  an  ivory-handled 
umbrella. 

"  I  remember  now,  my  dear  Miss  Araminta,"  said 
he.  "  It  was  given  to  my  grandfather  of  pious  mem- 
ory as  a  token  of  esteem  by  that  singularly  consti- 
tuted monarch  George  the  Fourth." 

*'  I  am  sure  it  must  be  almost  as  nice  as  Muffin's 
was,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  That  old  gentleman  with 
the  white  mustache  turned  round  to  look  at  it." 

"  Did  he.'' "  said  Cheriton,  fixing  his  eyeglass 
truculently. 

"  Muffin's  was  mauve,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  But  I 
think  lilac  is  almost  as  nice,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  a  matter  of  taste,  my  dear  Miss  Ara- 
minta. Fancy  one  entering  a  church  in  the  West 
End  of  London  with  an  umbrella  with  an  ivory 
handle !  " 

"Why  shouldn't  one,  pray.?"  snorted  Caroline 
from  the  recesses  of  her  bath-chair. 

"  My  dear  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  "  it  looks  so 
worldly." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Caroline. 

Scarcely  had  the  procession  reached  the  outer  pre- 
cincts of  Saint  Sepulchre's  when  its  ears  were  smitten 
with  the  sound  of  a  thousand  fervent  voices  uplifted 
in  adulation  of  their  Creator. 

"  There,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline,  "  now  you  are 
satisfied.    We  are  late." 


110  ARAMINTA 

This  fact,  however,  did  not  seem  to  perturb  Cher- 
iton  as  much  as  it  ought  to  have  done.  He  even 
deprecated  the  alacrity  with  which  Carohne  left  her 
bath-chair,  and  the  determined  manner  in  which  she 
prepared  to  head  the  procession  into  the  sacred 
edifice. 

"  Easy,  Caroline,"  said  he.  "  Let  'em  get  fairly 
on  to  their  legs." 

As  the  procession  filed  very  slowly  down  the  central 
aisle  with  the  fervent  voices  still  upraised  and  the 
organ  loudly  pealing,  more  than  one  pair  of  eyes 
took  their  fill  of  it.  There  was  not  a  worshiper 
within  those  four  walls  who  did  not  know  who  the  old 
woman  was  with  the  hawklike  features  and  the  ebony 
walking-stick.  Nor  were  they  at  a  loss  for  the  iden- 
tity of  the  distinguished  if  slightly  overdressed  gen- 
tleman who  came  in  her  train.  Moreover,  the  won- 
derful creature  in  the  picture  hat  and  the  lilac  frock 
did  not  fail  to  inspire  their  curiosity. 

Caroline  Crewkerne's  pew  was  at  the  far  end  of  the 
church,  next  but  two  to  the  chancel.  The  procession 
had  reached  the  middle  of  the  central  aisle  when  there 
came  a  brief  lull  in  the  proceedings.  The  organ  was 
muffled  in  a  passage  of  peculiar  solemnity ;  the  fervor 
of  the  voices  was  subdued  in  harmony ;  there  was 
hardly  a  sound  to  be  heard,  when  Cheriton  had  the 
misfortune  to  drop  his  umbrella. 

The  sound  of  the  ivory  handle  resolutely  meeting 
cold  marble  at  such  an  intensely  solemn  moment  was 
really  dramatic.  Not  a  person  throughout  the  whole 
of  the  sacred  edifice  who  could  fail  to  hear  the  impact 


CHERITON  DROPJ  HIS  UMBRELLA     111 

of  the  ill-fated  umbrella.  For  the  umbrella  was  in- 
deed ill-fated.  The  ivory  handle  lay  upon  the  marble, 
shivered  in  three  pieces.  Almost  every  eye  in  the 
church  seemed  to  be  fixed  upon  the  owner  of  the  um- 
brella. A  wave  of  indignation,  which  seemed  to 
make  the  air  vibrate,  appeared  to  pass  over  the  con- 
gregation. Not  only  did  the  owner  of  the  umbrella 
come  late  to  church,  but  he  must  needs  disturb 
the  sanctity  of  the  occasion  by  mundanely  drop- 
ping his  umbrella  with  extraordinary  violence  and 
publicity. 

From  a  little  to  the  left  of  Cheriton,  as  he  stood 
ruefully  surveying  the  wreck  of  his  umbrella,  there 
penetrated  cool  and  youthful  tones. 

"  My  aunt !  "  they  said,  "  who  is  the  gal  the  old 
blighter's  got  w4th  him?  " 

"  Sssh,  Archibald ! "  came  a  sibilant  whisper ; 
and  then  arose  a  louder  and  more  decisive,  "  Over- 
dressed !  " 

A  drawl  that  was  charmingly  sympathetic,  yet  of 
a  length  that  was  really  absurd,  seemed  to  float  all 
over  the  church  in  the  most  delightfully  subtle  con- 
volutions. 

"  What  a  pity !  "  it  could  be  heard  to  proclaim  by 
all  in  the  vicinity.  "  It  cannot  be  mended.  They 
couldn't  mend  Muffin's  when  she  dropped  hers  at  the 
Hobson  baby's  christening." 

With  a  naturalness  so  absolute  did  the  Amazon 
with  the  daffodil-colored  mane  stoop  to  assist  her 
cavalier  to  retrieve  the  fragments  of  the  shattered 
umbrella,  that  it  seemed  almost  to  the  onlookers  that 


112  ARAMINTA 

she  had  mistaken  the  central  aisle  of  Saint  Sepul- 
chre's at  11:15  a.m.  on  the  second  Sunday  in  May 
for  the  middle  of  Exmoor. 

"  My  aunt ! "  said  the  cool  and  youthful  tones, 
"  the  gal's  tophole." 

"  Sssh,  Archibald !  "  said  the  sibilant  whisper. 
"  Dear  me,  what  loud  manners !  Sssh,  Archibald ! 
don't  speak  during  the  Confession." 

Caroline  Crewkerne  and  her  gentlewoman  had  been 
kneeling  devoutly  upon  their  hassocks  for  at  least  two 
minutes  by  the  time  Cheriton  and  Miss  Perry  arrived 
at  the  second  pew  from  the  chancel.  Cheriton  bore  in 
his  right  hand  a  fragment  of  ivory;  in  the  left  the 
decapitated  body  of  his  umbrella.  Somehow  his  ex- 
pression of  rue  did  not  seem  to  be  quite  so  sincere  as 
the  circumstances  and  the  surroundings  warranted. 
In  the  right  hand  of  Miss  Perry  was  a  prayer-book ; 
in  the  left  two  fragments  of  ivory.  The  gravity  of 
her  demeanor  was  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  sensitive 
beholder. 

After  the  service,  as  Caroline  Crewkerne's  party 
was  moving  out  of  the  church,  it  was  joined  by  no 
less  a  person  than  George  Betterton.  Like  Caroline 
herself,  he  was  an  infrequent  worshiper  at  Saint 
Sepulchre's. 

"Hallo,  George!"  said  Cheriton.  "What  the 
dooce  has  brought  you  to  church.^  " 

Cheriton  was  not  sincere  in  his  inquiry.  He  knew 
perfectly  well  what  had  brought  George  to  church. 
The  responsibility  for  his  appearance  there  was  his 
entirely. 


CHERITON  DROPS  HIS  UMBRELLA     113 

"  The  weather,  Cheriton,"  growletl  George  sol- 
emnly.    "  Fme  moiTiin'  to  hear  a  good  sermon." 

"  I  don't  approve  of  candles  on  the  altar,"  said 
Caroline  Crewkerne  in  a  voice  that  all  the  world  might 
heed.  "  Far  too  many  Roman  practices  have  crept 
into  the  service  lately." 

"  You  are  perfectly  right,  Caroline,"  said  Cheri- 
ton.  "  That  is  my  opinion.  I  intend  to  lodge  a 
complaint  with  the  Vicar." 

"  How  are  you,  Caroline?  "  said  George,  with  afFa- 
bihty.    "  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  see  you  at  church." 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  you  might  afford  yourself  oft- 
ener,"  said  Caroline,  grimly. 

George  cast  an  envious  eye  to  the  front.  Cheriton, 
walking  with  the  lilac  frock  and  the  picture  hat  ten 
paces  ahead  of  the  bath-chair,  appeared  to  be  com- 
ing in  for  a  good  deal  of  public  attention. 

"  How  does  it  feel,  Caroline,"  said  George  Better- 
ton,  "to  go  to  church  w4th  Grandmother  Dorset.?" 

"  Do  you  mean  my  niece.  Miss  Perry.?  "  said  she, 
huffily. 

"Perry,  eh.?    A  girl  of  Polly's?  " 

"  Don't  you  see  the  likeness?  "  said  Caroline,  with 
a  little  snort. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  George.  "  She  resembles  Polly 
about  as  much  as  Cheriton  resembles  a  Christian." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  George,"  said  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne. 

"  She  reminds  me  of  what  you  were  in  the  'Fifties, 
Caroline,"  said  George,  obviously  trying  to  be  agree- 
able. 


114  ARAMINTA 

"  A  compliment,"  sneered  its  recipient. 

"  Gal's  on  the  big  side.  A  reg'lar  bouncer ;  but, 
bj  George^ !  " 

His  grace  paused  on  the  apostrophe  to  his  natal 
saint. 

"  Carries  her  clothes  like  Grandmother  Dorset," 
said  he. 

"  It  is  a  great  responsibility,"  said  Caroline,  "  for 
a  woman  of  my  age  to  have  a  creature  like  that  to 
look  after." 

"Money.?" 

"  Not  a  sou." 

"  Pity,"  said  George,  whose  standards  were 
frankly  utilitarian.  "  Fine-looking  gal.  Cheriton 
appears  to  think  so." 

By  now  the  space  between  the  bath-chair  and  the 
first  pair  in  the  procession  had  been  increased  to 
tAventy  paces. 

"  Cheriton,"  called  the  old  lady,  "  this  is  not  a 
coursing  match." 

Cheriton  checked  politely  to  await  the  arrival  of 
the  powers. 

"  Dear  me!  "  said  he;  "  are  we  walking  quickly .f' 
Miss  Araminta  moves  like  a  fawn  in  her  own  West 
country." 

"  Girl,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  don't  walk  so  quickly. 
You  are  now  in  Hyde  Park,  not  in  a  lane  in  Devon- 
shire." 

"  You  come  from  Devon,"  said  George  Betterton, 
addressing  Miss  Perry  with  an  air  of  remarkable 
benevolence,  "  where  tlie  cream  comes  from,  eh.'^  " 


CHERITON  DROPS  HIS  UMBRELLA     115 

If  we  assert  positively  that  Miss  Perry  made  a 
gesture  of  licking  her  lips  in  a  frankly  feline  man- 
ner, we  lay  ourselves  open  to  a  scathing  rebuke  from 
the  feminine  section  of  our  readers.  They  will  assure 
us  that  no  true  lady  would  be  guilty  of  such  an  act 
when  walking  in  Hyde  Park  on  a  Sunday  morning 
with  the  highest  branch  of  the  peerage.  Yet  we  are 
by  no  means  certain  she  did  not.  At  least,  the  ges- 
ture she  made  was  highly  reminiscent  of  a  feat  of 
that  nature. 

"  They  promised  to  send  me  some  from  the  Parson- 
age," said  Miss  Perry,  wistfully,  "  but  it  hasn't  come 
yet." 

"  Shame !  "  said  his  grace,  with  deep  feeling.  "  I'll 
go  round  to  Buszard's  first  thing  to-morrer  and  tell 
'em  to  send  you  a  pot." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  so  much,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Pray  don't  mention  it,  my  dear  Miss "  said 

the  Duke,  with  a  somewhat  heavy  yet  by  no  means 
unsuccessful  air. 

"  My  name  is  Araminta,"  drawled  Miss  Perry, 
with  her  usual  formula ;  "  but  they  call  me  Goose  be- 
cause I  am  rather  a  Sil-lay." 

"  Charmin'.  Call  you  Goose,  eh.?    Charmin'  name." 

"A  silly  name,  isn't  it.?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Charmin',"  said  George.  "  Charmin'  name.  I'll 
call  you  Goose  myself  if  you  have  no  objection." 

"  Oh  do,  please,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  then  I  shall 
know  we  are  friends." 

"  Capital !  Shall  I  tell  you.  Miss  Goose,  what  they 
call  me.?  " 


116  ARAMINTA 

"  Oh  do,  please,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  They  call  me  Gobo,  because  they  say  I  gobble  like 
a  turkey." 

"  What  fun !  "  cried  Miss  Perry.  "  What  a  splen- 
did name !   I  shall  write  to  tell  Muffin  about  it." 

Miss  Perry's  clear  peal  of  laughter  appeared  to 
excite  the  curiosity  of  a  particularly  well-groomed 
and  well-gowned  section  of  the  British  public  which 
occupied  the  chairs  along  the  path.  At  all  events, 
it  eyed  the  slow-moving  procession  very  intently. 

"  Here  comes  that  gal,"  said  the  proprietor  of  the 
cool  and  youthful  tones,  removing  a  silver-mounted 
stick  from  his  mouth.  "  She's  got  another  old  sports- 
man with  her." 

"  Sssh,  Archibald !  "  said  the  sibilant  voice ;  "  that 
is  the  Duke  cf  Brancaster." 

"  He's  a  lucky  old  fellow,"  said  the  voice  of  youth. 
"  But  if  I  was  that  gal  I  wouldn't  walk  in  the  Park 
with  a  chap  who  has  a  face  like  an  over-ripe  tomato, 
and  who  gobbles  like  a  turkey." 

"  Sssh,  Archibald,  dearest!  '* 

The  procession  was  now  almost  alongside  the  youth- 
ful critic.  Miss  Perry,  a  positive  queen  challenging 
the  superb  May  morning  in  its  glamor  and  its  fresh- 
ness, with  her  chin  tilted  at  a  rather  proud  angle,  for 
she  could  not  help  rejoicing  simply  and  sincerely  in 
the  attention  that  was  paid  to  her  new  frock,  was 
flanked  upon  the  one  hand  by  Cheriton,  on  the  other 
by  George  Betterton.  Ten  paces  in  the  rear  came  the 
bath-chair  with  its  hawklike  occupant.  Beside  it  was 
Miss  Burden  with  Ponto  on  a  lead. 


CHERITON  DROPS  HIS  UMBRELLA     117 

"  I  tell  you  what,  mater,"  said  the  voice  of  youth. 
"  If  those  two  old  bucks  are  not  ridin'  jealous  they 
will  be  very  soon." 

"  Sssh,  my  pet !  "  said  mamma,  placing  a  particu- 
larly neat  suede  over  the  mouth  of  young  hopeful. 

"  If  you  call  me  Goose" — the  deliciously  ludicrous 
drawl  was  borne  on  the  zephyrs  of  spring — "  I  may 
call  you  Gobo,  may  I  not.^  " 

"  'Arry,"  said  a  bystander,  with  a  gesture  of  fe- 
rocious disgust  to  a  companion  who  embellished  a 
frock-coat  with  a  pair  of  brown  boots,  "  that's  what 
they  call  clawss.  It  fairly  makes  you  sick.  That's 
what  comes  of  'aving  a  'ouse  of  Lords." 

The  proprietor  of  the  brown  boots  assented 
heartily. 

"  If  I  was  a  nob,"  said  he,  "  I  would  learn  to  re- 
spect meself." 

The  voice  of  command  came  forth  from  the  bath- 
chair. 

"  George,"  it  said,  "  have  you  noticed  the 
tulips.?" 

"  No,"  said  George;  "  where  are  they?  " 

He  looked  down  at  his  feet  to  see  if  he  had  trodden 
upon  them. 

"  Burden,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  take  the  Dook 
across  the  road  to  see  the  tulips." 

Somewhat  reluctantly,  it  must  be  confessed,  his 
grace  permitted  himself  to  be  conducted  by  Ponto 
and  the  faithful  gentlewoman  over  the  way  to  inspect 
these  specimens  of  British  horticulture. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne,  "  to-morrow 


118  ARAMINTA 

you  must  take  my  niece  to  view  the  National  Gal- 
lery." 

"  That  will  be  too  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

Cheriton  bestowed  upon  his  old  friend  and  adver- 
sary a  look  of  wariness  tempered  with  gratitude. 


CHAPTER  X 

JIM    LASCELLES    MAKES    HIS    APPEARANCE 

Miss  Araminta  Perry,  Hill  Street,  London,  W.,  to 
Miss  Elizabeth  Perry,  The  Parsonage,  Slocum 
Magna,  North  Devon. 

Dearest  Muffin, — London  is  a  much  larger 
place  than  Slocum  Magna,  hut  I  don't  think  it 
is  nearly  so  nice.  I  think  if  I  had  not  got  Tobias 
with  me,  sometimes  I  might  be  very  miserable. 

First  I  must  tell  you  about  my  new  frock.  It 
is  a  lilac  one,  and  has  been  copied  from  a  famous 
picture  of  Great  Grandmamma  Dorset  by  a 
painter  named  Gainsborough — I  mean  that 
Gainsborough  copied  Great  Grandmamma  Dor- 
set, not  that  he  made  my  frock.  Madame  Pelis- 
sier  made  my  frock.  It  is  not  quite  so  nice  as 
your  mauve  was,  but  it  is  much  admired  by 
nearly  everybody  in  London.  When  I  walk  out 
in  it  people  often  turn  round  to  look  at  it. 

I  think  the  people  here  are  sometimes  rather 
rude,  but  Lord  Cheriton  says  I  am  not  to  mind, 
as  people  are  like  that  in  London.  Lord  Cheri- 
ton is  a  sweet.  Aunt  Caroline  says  he  is  much 
older  than  he  looks,  but  Miss  Burden  doesn't 
think  so.  Aunt  Caroline  must  be  right,  because 
119 


120  ARAMINTA 

she  is  always  right  in  everything,  hut  Miss  Bur- 
den is  just  a  sweet.  She  comes  to  my  room 
every  night  to  see  if  I  am  miserable.  S*he  is 
very  good  to  Tobias.  Aunt  Caroline  says  she 
is  too  romantic.  She  had  a  love  affair  when  she 
was  younger.  Lord  Cheriton  says  I  must  be 
careful  that  I  don't  have  one,  as  they  are  so  bad 
for  the  complexion.  He  says  he  knows  as  a  fact 
that  all  the  men  in  Lojidon  are  untrustworthy. 
He  says  oldish  men,  particularly  if  they  have 
been  married  twice,  are  very  dangerous.  As 
Dearest  Papa  is  not  here  to  advise  me.  Lord 
Cheriton  acts  as  he  thinks  Dearest  Papa  would 
like  him  to.  He  goes  out  with  me  everywhere  to 
see  that  I  come  to  no  harm.  Isn't  it  dear  of 
him? 

Yesterday  Lord  Cheriton  took  me  to  the  Zoo- 
logical Gardens  to  see  the  elephants.  It  was 
Aunt  Caroline's  suggestion.  She  thought  we 
should  find  so  many  things  in  common.  I  think 
we  did;  at  least  I  know  we  had  one  thing  in  com- 
mon. We  are  both  very  fond  of  cream  buns.  I 
had  four,  and  one  of  the  elephants  had  five. 
But  Lord  Cheriton  says  the  elephants  are  so  big 
you  can't  call  them  greedy.  We  also  saw  the 
bears.  They  each  had  a  cream  bun  apiece.  Lord 
Cheriton  says  each  of  them  would  have  eaten 
another,  but  he  thought  it  hardly  right  to  en- 
courage them. 

Lord  Cheriton  is  a  very  high-prvncipled  man. 
He  says  I  am  to  be  very  careful  of  a  perfectly 


LASCELLES  MAKES  I^IS  APPEARANCE    121 

charming  old  gentleman  who  calls  most  days  to 
see  Aunt  Caroline.  I  call  him  Gobo  because  he 
gobbles  like  a  turkey,  and  he  calls  me  Goose  be- 
cause I  am  rather  a  silly.  He  is  a  Duke  really. 
Lord  Cheriton  doesn't  seem  to  trust  him.  He 
says  it  is  because  of  his  'past  life.  I  heard  Lord 
Cheriton  tell  Aunt  Caroline  that  she  ought  not 
to  encourage  the  old  reprobate  with  me  in  the 
house.  It  is  rather  dreadful  that  lie  should  be 
like  that,  because  he  is  such  a  dear,  although  his 
face  is  so  red  and  he  gobbles  like  anything.  He 
— Gobo — is  going  to  give  me  a  riding  horse  so 
that  I  can  ride  in  Rotten  Row,  as  it  is  so  good 
for  the  health.  He  rides  in  Rotten  Row  every 
morning.  He  says  my  horse  will  be  quite  as 
nice  as  Squire  Lascelles^  pedigree  hunter  was.  I 
don*t  think  Lord  Cheriton  approves  of  it.  He 
seems  to  doubt  whether  Dearest  Papa  would  like 
me  to  be  seen  much  in  public  with  a  man  who  has 
no  prvnciples. 

I  have  spoken  to  Miss  Burden  about  it.  But 
she  agrees  with  Lord  Cheriton  in  everything, 
because  she  considers  he  is  the  only  perfect  man 
she  has  ever  met.  Miss  Burden  says  his  ideals 
are  so  lofty.  Aunt  Caroline  doesn't  think  so 
much  of  Lord  Cheriton.  She  says  that  all  men 
and  most  women  are  vain,  selfish,  worldly,  and 
self-seeking.  I  xvish  Aunt  Caroline  could  meet 
Dearest  Papa.  And  you  too.  Muffin  dearest. 
But  I  do  think  Aunt  Caroline  is  mistaken  about 
Lord  Cheriton.    I  know  that  he  pays  great  at  ten- 


122  ARAMINTA 

tion  to  his  appearance,  but  I  am  perfectly  sure 
he  is  a  Sweet.  If  he  were  not,  why  should  he 
take  so  much  trouble  over  my  lilac  frock  and 
my  nere)  hat,  which  I  don't  think  I  like  because 
it  makes  people  stare  so;  and  why  should  he  be 
so  careful  that  I  should  come  to  no  harm,  and 
always  try  to  act  just  as  he  thinks  Dearest  Papa 
would  like  him  to?  I  am  sure  Aunt  Caroline 
must  be  mistaken.  It  must  be  because  people 
in  London  are  always  cynical.  At  least  that  is 
what  Lord  Cheriton  says.  He  says  there  is 
something  in  the  atmosphere  of  London  that 
turns  the  milk  of  human  kindness  sour.  Isn^t 
it  dreadful?  I  am  so  glad  we  haven't  that  kind 
of  atmosphere  at  Slocum  Magna,  Muffin  dearest. 

Lord  Cheriton  is  marvelously  clever.  Some 
of  the  words  he  uses  are  longer  than  Dearest 
Papa'^s.  He  says  I  am  a  Throwback.  He  won't 
tell  me  what  it  means.  He  says  it  is  a  dictionary 
word,  yet  I  can't  find  it  in  Aunt  Caroline's  dic- 
tionary. Aunt  Caroline  says  I  am  too  in- 
quisitive. Please  ask  Dearest  Papa.  He  will 
certainly  know. 

Lord  Cheriton  is  very  good  at  poetry.  He 
says  it  is  because  he  went  to  the  same  school  as 
Lord  Byron.  He  has  written  what  he  calls  an 
Ode  to  a  Lilac  Frock.     It  begins  like  this: — 

Touth  is  so  fair  that  the  Morning's  smile, 
Is  touched  with  the  glamor  of  a  pure  delight. 

I  cannot  remember  any  more,  and  Aunt  Caroline 


LASCELLES  MAKES  FIS  APPEARANCE    US 

burnt  the  copy  he  gave  me,  herself  personally. 
She  said  he  was  old  enough  to  know  better.  But 
I  think  it  is  awfully  clever  of  him,  donH  you. 
Muffin  dearest?  Miss  Burden  was  very  miser- 
able about  the  Ode — /  mean,  of  course,  about 
Aunt  Caroline  burning  it.  She  scorched  her 
fingers  in  trying  to  rescue  it  from  the  flames. 
She  has  a  new  lilac  frock,  because  Lord  Cheriton 
admires  lilac  frocks  so  much.  She  looks  a  Sweet 
in  it,  although  Aunt  Caroline  says  she  looks  a 
perfect  fright.  Aunt  Caroline  always  says  what 
she  means,  but  1  don't  think  she  always  means 
what  she  says.  She  said  some  perfectly  wicked 
things  about  Tobias  when  the  poor  darling 
escaped  from  his  basket  and  hid  behind  the  draw- 
ing-room curtains.  But  I  think  that  was  be- 
cause Ponto  was  frightened.  Ponto  is  a  little 
Horror.  I  think  I  shall  persuade  Tobias  to  bite 
him. 

Aunt  Caroline  says  if  I  behave  well  I  am  to 
go  to  Buckingham  Place  to  see  the  Queen.  If  I 
do  go  I  am  to  have  another  new  frock,  although 
I  am  sure  I  shall  never  get  one  half  so  nice  as  my 
lilac  is.  I  do  wish  I  could  go  in  that.  I  am 
sure  the  Queen  would  like  it;  but  when  I  told 
Aunt  Caroline  she  told  me  to  hold  my  tongue. 
The  frock  I  am  going  to  see  the  Queen  in  is  all 
white,  which  Lord  Cheriton  says  is  his  favorite 
color  because  it  is  the  emblem  of  virginal  purity. 

I  have  not  had  a  single  game  of  hockey  since  I 
came  to  London,     Lord  Cheriton  says  they  only 


124  ARAMINTA 

play  hockey  in  London  when  the  Thames  is 
frozen  over^  which  happens  only  once  in  a  blue 
moon.  I  do  call  that  silly,  don't  you,  Muffin 
dearest?  when  we  have  a  mixed  match  at  Slo- 
cum  Magna  every  Wednesday  all  through  the 
winter. 

Last  night  I  went  to  a  party  in  my  new  even- 
ing frock.  Everybody  liked  it — at  least,  they 
said  they  did.  One  or  two  young  men  told  me 
they  admired  it  immensely.  Wasn't  it  dear  of 
them?  Lord  C.  and  Goho  were  there.  They 
didn't  think  it  was  cut  a  bit  too  low.  I  am  so 
pleased.  I  wish,  Muffin  dearest,  that  you  and 
Polly  and  Milly  had  one  like  it,  because  I  am 
sure  it  must  be  awfully  expensive.  And  what 
do  you  think?  Aunt  Caroline  has  given  me  a 
string  of  pearls  to  wear  with  it  which  once  be- 
longed to  Great  Grandmamma  Dorset.  I  do 
call  that  British,  don'' t  you?  They  are  supposed 
to  be  very  valuable.  Lord  C.  and  Gobo  both 
thought  the  party  was  a  great  success.  Aunt 
Caroline  went  to  sleep  most  of  the  evening. 

A  fortnight  next  Wednesday  Aunt  Caroline  is 
going  to  give  a  dance  because  of  me.  It  was 
Lord  Cheriton  who  persuaded  her,  arid  he  is  ar- 
ranging everything.  Aunt  Caroline  and  he 
cannot  agree  about  the  champagne  for  supper. 
Aunt  Caroline  says  that  claret  cup  was  con- 
sidered good  enough  when  she  came  out.  Lord 
Cheriton  says  that  civilization  has  advanced 
since  those  days.     I  thought  it  sounded  unkind 


LASCELLES  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE    125 

to  Aunt  Caroline,  hut  Miss  Burden  says  Lord 
Cheriton  can't  help  putting  things  epigram- 
matic ally. 

Then,  too,  Muffin  dearest,  I  must  tell  you  that 
Aunt  Caroline  and  Lord  Cheriton  have  almost 
quarreled  over  Goho.  Lord  C  insists  upon  not 
inviting  the  harmless  old  dear.  He  says  if  he 
comes  to  the  ball  he  will  abuse  the  wine,  yet  drink 
more  of  it  than  is  good  for  him,  and  that  he  will 
play  bridge  all  the  evening  and  be  a  nuisance 
to  everybody.  Lord  Cheriton  says  he  always 
vitiates  an  atmosphere  of  virginal  purity  by 
saying  and  doing  things  that  he  oughtn't.  I 
suppose  Lord  Cheriton  will  have  to  have  his 
way,  because  he  is  acting  as  a  sort  of  deputy  to 
Dearest  Papa.  He  has  already  hissed  me  several 
times  '*  paternally,'*  which  is  really  awfully  sweet 
of  him;  and  every  day  he  warns  me  to  beware  of 
Gobo  and  to  be  very  careful  that  he  does  not  go 
too  far. 

This  is  all  this  time.  Muffin  dearest.  I  send 
heaps  and  heaps  of  love  and  kisses  to  you  and 
Polly  and  Milly  and  Dickie  and  Charley  and 
poor  blind  Doggo;  and  to  Dearest  Papa  I  send 
twelve  extra  special  kisses.  I  remain  always 
your  most  affectionate  sister 

Goose. 

P.S. — Tobias  sends  his  fondest  love. 

This   letter  may   enable  the  judicious   to   discern 
that  although  the  conquest  of  London  by  the  lilac 


126  ARAMINTA 

frock  and  the  daffodil-colored  mane  proceeded  apace, 
all  was  not  harmony  in  Hill  Street,  W.  To  Cheriton's 
masterly  stage  management  there  can  be  no  doubt 
much  of  the  triumph  was  due,  but  he  unfortunately 
was  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  underrate  his  own 
achievement.  "  Cheriton  can't  carry  corn  "  was  the 
trite  but  obviously  just  manner  in  which  George  Bet- 
terton  summed  up  the  situation. 

No  two  persons  knew  Caroline  Crewkerne  quite  so 
well  as  these  old  cronies.  And  no  one  save  Caroline 
Crewkerne  knew  them  quite  so  well  as  they  knew  each 
other.  It  required  a  very  experienced  hand  to  hold 
the  balance  even  between  them.  Let  it  be  said  at  once 
that  one  was  forthcoming  in  that  very  worldly  wise 
old  woman. 

This  was  quite  as  it  should  be.  For  it  was  won- 
derful how  soon  it  was  bruited  about  in  the  parish 
that  two  Richmonds  had  already  entered  the  field. 
Both  were  eligible,  mature,  and  distinguished  men, 
and, both  were  more  popular  than  in  Caroline's  opin- 
ion they  ought  to  have  been.  As  she  said  in  her  sar- 
castic manner,  she  knew  them  both  too  well  to  have 
any  illusions  about  them.  Les  hommes  moyens  sen- 
suels,  said  she. 

Not,  of  course,  that  Caroline's  opinion  prevented 
their  entrances  and  exits  in  Hill  Street  at  all  hours 
of  the  day  and  of  the  evening  becoming  a  subject  of 
comment.  There  were  those,  however,  who  were 
favorably  placed  to  watch  the  comedy — or  ought  we 
to  call  it  farce  now  that  criticism  has  grown  so  sensi- 
tive upon  the  point.'' — who  were  by  no  means  enam- 


LASCELLES  MAKES  illS  APPEARANCE    127 

ored  of  the  spectacle.  The  fair  protagonist  was  so 
authentic. 

However,  the  gods  were  looking,  as  they  are  some- 
times. And  the  manner  in  which  they  contrived  to 
mark  their  attention  was  really  rather  quaint.  They 
inserted  a  bee  in  Cheriton's  cool  and  sagacious  bonnet. 

"  My  dear  Caroline,"  said  he,  one  morning  when 
he  paid  a  call,  "  do  you  know  I  have  taken  a  fancy 
to  have  a  copy  of  Grandmother  Dorset  to  stick  in 
the  little  gallery  in  Grosvenor  Square." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Carohne,  ungraciously. 

"  Don't  say  '  humph,'  my  dear  Caroline,"  said 
Cheriton,  melodiously ;  "  it  makes  you  look  so 
plain." 

"  I  have  never  allowed  that  picture  to  leave  my 
drawing-room,"  said  she,  "  for  public  exhibition  or 
on  any  other  pretext,  and  I  don't  see  w^hy  I  should  do 
so  at  this  time  of  day." 

"  There  is  no  need  for  it  to  leave  your  drawing- 
room,"  said  Cheriton,  persuasively.  "  A  man  can 
come  here  to  copy  it  if  you  will  grant  him  the  use  of 
the  place  of  a  morning." 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  said  Caroline,  "  my  drawing- 
room  should  be  turned  into  a  painter's  studio." 

"  It  is  quite  a  simple  matter,"  Cheriton  explained. 
"  A  curtain  can  be  rigged  up  and  drawn  across  the 
canvas,  and  you  won't  know  it's  there." 

Caroline  yielded  with  reluctance. 

"  There  is  a  young  fellow  of  the  name  of  Las- 
celles,"  said  Cheriton,  "  whom  I  believe  to  be  quite 
competent  to  make  a  respectable  copy." 


128  ARAMINTA 

"  A  Royal  Academician  ?  " 

"  God  bless  me,  no !  The  young  fellow  is  only  a 
beginner." 

"  I  fail  to  see  why  I  should  grant  the  use  of  my 
drawing-room,"  said  Caroline,  "  to  a  person,  who  is 
not  a  member  of  the  Royal  Academy.  And  what  an 
inferior  copy  by  some  -wretched  dauber  will  profit 
you,  I  cannot  imagine."^ 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Cheriton,  with  the  air  of  one 
imparting  a  state  secret,  "  I  am  going  Gainsborough 
mad.  If  I  can't  have  Grandmother  Dorset  at  pres- 
ent for  Cheriton  House,  I  intend  to  have  something 
as  near  to  her  as  I  can  get.  And,  in  my^opinion,  this 
young  fellow  Lascelles  is  the  very  mail  to  make  a 
faithful  copy  of  the  peerless  original.  He  has  had 
the  best  possible  training  for  color,  and,  like  myself, 
he  is  a  Gainsborough  enthusiast.'^ 

Without  further  preface,  James  Lascelles  found 
his  way  to  Hill  Street  one  fine  spring  morning.  He 
was  armed  with  the  tools  of  his  trade,  and  with  a 
great  piece  of  canvas    some    eighty-four  inches  by 

fifty. 

Jim  Lascelles  was  a  cheery,  healthy,  young  fellow, 
about  six  feet  two,  and  undoubtedly  a  supremely  at- 
tractive representative  of  the  English  nation.  How 
a  man  of  Cheriton's  cool  penetration,  who  rejoiced  in 
such  a  sound  working  knowledge  of  things  as  they 
are,  should  have  fallen  so  easily  and  so  blindly  into 
the  trap  that  had  been  laid  for  him  is  one  of  those 
matters  upon  which  only  the  most  inconclusive  specu- 
lations can  avail  us.     Doubtless  he  thought  that  a 


LASCELLES  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE    1^9 

young  fellow  so  obscure  as  Jim,  who  was  as  poor  as 
a  mouse,  and  in  no  way  immodest  in  his  ideas,  could 
be  trusted  implicitly  with  such  a  trifling  commission. 
And  doubtless  he  could  have  been  had  those  Persons 
Upstairs  played  the  game.  But  of  course  they  don't 
always ;  and  a  man  as  wise  as  Cheriton  ought  to  have 
known  it. 

All  that  Chariton  condescended  to  know  on  this 
important  and  wide-reaching  subject  was  that  Jim 
Lascelles  "  hadn't  a  bob  in  the  world,"  and  that  he 
was  good  to  his  mother.  He  was  not  even  aware  that 
the  mother  of  Jim,  by  some  obscure  mode  of  reason- 
ing peculiar'.to  her  kind,  felt  that  Jim  was  bound  to 
turn  out  a  great  genius.  Nor  was  he  aware  that  on 
that  naif  pretext  she  had  pinched  and  scraped  in  the 
most  heroic  manner  to  spare  enough  from  her  modest 
pittance  to  give  Jim  three  years'  training  in  Paris 
in  the  studio  of  the  world-renowned  Monsieur  Gillet. 
Indeed,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  Lord 
Cheriton  had  any  special  faith  in  Jim  or  in  his  genius. 
He  merely  believed  that  he  could  intrust  a  little  com- 
mission with  perfect  safety,  and  with  profit  to  both 
parties,  to  a  modest,  sound-hearted,  pleasantly  medi- 
ocre young  fellow. 

Now,  at  the  hour  Jim  Lascelles  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance in  Hill  Street,  that  is  just  about  what  he 
was.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  he  would  have  occasional 
dreams  of  coming  greatness.  But  he  never  mentioned 
them  to  anybody,  because,  in  his  own  mind,  he  was 
convinced  that  they  were  due  to  having  supped  later 
than  usual.    He  troubled  very  little  about  the  future. 


130  ARAMINTA 

He  worked  on  steadily,  striving  to  pay  his  way ;  and 
if  he  never  expected  to  see  his  "  stuff  "  on  the  hne  in 
the  long  room  at  Burlington  House,  he  did  hope  some 
time  to  sell  it  a  little  more  easily,  and  to  get  better 
prices  for  it  from  the  dealers. 

If  he  could  go  once  in  three  years  to  Kennington 
Oval  to  see  Surrey  play  the  Australia^is,  or  if  he  could 
afford  a  couple  of  tickets  occasionally  for  the  Chelsea 
Arts  Club  Fancy  Ball  at  Covent  Garden,  or  his  funds 
were  sufficient  for  him  to  take  his  mother  to  the  dress- 
circle  of  a  suburban  theater  to  see  a  play  that  ended 
pleasantly,  and  he  was  always  able  to  buy  as  much 
tobacco  as  he  wanted,  he  didn't  mind  very  much  that 
he  worked  very  hard  to  earn  very  little.  He  argued 
quite  correctly  that  many  chaps  were  worse  off  than 
Jim  Lascelles.  He  had  splendid  health,  and  he  had  a 
splendid  mother. 

No  sooner  had  John  received  Jim  Lascelles  on  this 
memorable  forenoon,  and  the  mighty  canvas  that 
accompanied  him,  which  was  in  the  care  of  two 
stalwart  sons  of  labor,  than  the  fun  really  began.  In 
the  first  place,  it  was  only  with  infinite  contrivance 
that  it  was  got  through  the  blue  drawing-room  door, 
which,  fortunately  for  Jim — and  dare  we  say  for 
Cheriton? — was  part  and  parcel  of  a  spacious  and 
lofty  Georgian  interior.  All  the  same,  some  sac- 
rifice of  white  paint  was  involved  in  the  process, 
which  was  deemed  a  sacrilege  by  at  least  one  witness 
to  it. 

However,  our  old  friend  John  did  not  overawe  Jim 
Lascelles  as  much  as  he  had  a  right  to  expect  to, 


LASCELLES  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE    131 

because  Jim  had  been  born  and  brought  up  at  the 
Red  House  at  Widdif ord,  and  he  went  to  quite  a  good 
school  before  the  crash  came. 

"  A  shocking  bad  light,"  said  Jim,  surveying  the 
aristocratic  gloom  of  the  blue  drawing-room  as 
though  it  belonged  to  him.    "  Better  stick  it  there." 

With  considerable  hauteur,  John  superintended 
the  rearing  of  the  unwieldy  canvas  in  the  place  Jim 
Lascelles  had  indicated.  It  involved  the  moving  of 
the  sofa  six  yards  to  the  left.  To  do  this,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  John,  almost  required  a  special  Act  of  Parlia- 
ment. It  was  certainly  necessary  to  get  the  authority 
of  Mr.  Marchbanks  before  it  could  be  moved  an  inch. 
Jim,  however,  being  a  young  fellow  who  liked  his  own 
way,  and  who  generally  managed  to  get  it,  cheer- 
fully removed  the  sofa  himself  while  John  was  seek- 
ing the  permission  of  his  chief.  When  that  aston- 
ished functionary  returned,  the  two  stalwart  sons  of 
labor  were  performing  their  final  duties.  He  had, 
therefore,  to  be  content  with  a  stern  admonition  as 
to  where  they  put  their  feet  while  they  fixed  up  the 
canvas. 

Jim  Lascelles  was  not  given  to  unbridled  enthu- 
siasms, but  the  discovery  of  Araminta,  Duchess  of 
Dorset,  by  Gainsborough,  seemed  greatly  to  disturb 
him. 

"  Ye  gods ! "  said  Jim,  "  it  is  a  crime  to  keep  the 
heritage  of  the  nation  in  a  light  like  this."  He  turned 
to  John,  who  held  his  chin  in  the  air,  the  incarnation 
of  outraged  dignity.  "  I  say,"  said  he,  "  can't  you 
draw  those  blinds  up  higher.?  " 


132  ARAMINTA 

"  No,  sir,"  said  John,  supercilioubiy,  "  not  without 
her  ladyship's  permission." 

"  Where  is  her  ladyship?  "  said  Jim.  "  I  should 
like  to  see  her." 

"  Her  ladyship  is  not  at  home,  sir,"  said  John, 
with  emphasis. 

"  Well,"  said  the  imperturbable  James,  "  those 
blinds  will  undoubtedly  have  to  go  up  higher." 

And  Jim  Lascelles,  doubtless  to  prove  to  all  whom 
it  might  concern  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  respect- 
ing his  own  opinion,  walked  up  to  the  window,  un- 
loosed the  cords,  and  hauled  up  the  Venetian  blinds 
to  their  uttermost.  Various  additional  beams  of  the 
May  sunshine  rewarded  his  action. 

"  Now,"  said  Jim,  "  perhaps  we  shall  be  able  to 
get  some  sort  of  an  idea  of  Gainsborough  at  his 
best." 

We  think  it  is  open  to  doubt  whether  John  had  a 
feeling  for  art.  At  least  he  seemed  to  evince  no  de- 
sire to  obtain  an  idea  of  Gainsborough  at  his  best. 
For  he  merely  turned  his  back  upon  Araminta, 
Duchess  of  Dorset,  and  incidentally  upon  Jim  Las- 
celles, and  proceeded  in  quite  the  grand  manner  to 
shepherd  the  two  sons  of  labor  into  the  street. 

This  feat  accomplished,  John  made  a  formal  com- 
plaint to  his  official  superior. 

"  That  painting  man,"  said  he,  "  goes  on  as  if  the 
place  belonged  to  him.  I  don't  know  what  her  lady- 
ship will  say,  I'm  sure." 

"  John,"  said  that  pillar  of  the  Whigs  impres- 
sively, "  if  the  education  of  the  masses  does  not  prove 


LASCELLES  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE    133 

the  ruin  of  this  country,  Henry  Marchbanks  is  not 
my  name." 

Miss  Perry,  in  her  second-best  frock,  the  modest 
blue  serge,  descended  the  stairs. 

"  Has  the  painting  man  come  yet.''  "  she  inquired. 

"  Yes,  miss,  he  has,"  said  John,  with  venom  and 
with  brevity. 

"  Do  you  think  I  might  go  in  and  peep  at  him  ?  " 
she  said  in  her  ludicrous  way.  "  I  should  so  like  to 
see  a  real  painting  man,  painting  a  real  picture  with 
paints." 

"  If  you  obtain  her  ladyship's  permission,  I  dare 
say,  miss,  you  may  do  so,"  said  Mr.  Marchbanks, 
cautiously. 

Miss  Perry,  however,  as  is  the  way  of  her  sex, 
when  her  curiosity  was  fully  aroused,  was  quite  capa- 
able  of  displaying  a  mind  of  her  own. 

Miss  Perry  entered  the  blue  drawing-room  noise- 
lessly. There  was  the  painting  man  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets.  He  w^as  standing  with  his  back  to 
her,  and  he  was  entirely  lost  in  contemplation  of  the 
masterpiece  he  had  been  commissioned  to  copy. 

"  Marvelous !  "  he  could  be  heard  to  exclaim  at 
little  intervals  under  his  breath,  "  marvelous !  " 

This  examination  of  Gainsborough's  masterpiece 
was  terminated  long  before  it  otherwise  would  have 
been  by  the  intervention  of  what  can  only  be  described 
as  a  positive  crow  of  human  delight. 

"  Why,  it's  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  Jim  Las- 
celles." 

Jim  Lascelles  turned  about  with  a  look  of  wonder 


134  ARAMINTA 

upon  his  handsome  countenance.  At  first  he  said  not 
a  word ;  and  then  he  placed  both  hands  upon  the  stal- 
wart shoulders  of  Miss  Perry  and  gave  her  a  sound 
shaking  of  affectionate  incredulity. 

"  It  is  the  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim.  "  You  great 
overgrown  thing." 

Miss  Perry  gave  what  can  only  be  described  as  a 
second  crow  of  human  pleasure. 

"  Why,  Jim,"  said  she,  "  you've  got  a  mustache." 

"  The  Goose  Girl,"  cried  Jim,  "  in  the  blessed  old 
town  of  London." 

"  I've  been  in  London  three  weeks,"  said  Miss 
Perry,  importantly. 

"  I've  been  in  London  three  years,"  said  Jim  Las- 
celles,  sadly.  "  What  a  great  overgrown  thing ! 
You  are  taller  than  I  am." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Miss  Perry ;  "  I  am  only  six  feet." 

Jim  Lascelles  declined  to  be  convinced  that  Miss 
Perry  was  not  more  than  six  feet  until  they  had  stood 
back  to  back  to  take  a  measurement. 

"  You  are  an  absolute  what-do-you-call-'em !  "  said 
Jim.  "Are  you  as  fond  of  bread  and  jam  and  ap- 
ples and  old  boots  as  you  used  to  be?  Or,  let  me 
see,  was  it  Doggo  who  used  to  eat  old  boots  in  his 
youth.?  " 

"  I  never  ate  old  boots,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  an 
air  of  conviction. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  now,"  said  Jim ;  "  old  boots  and 
kitchen  chairs  were  the  only  things  you  didn't  eat. 
I've  had  many  a  licking  because  the  Goose  Girl  was 
so  fond  of  apples." 


i    LASCELLES  MAKES  illS  APPEARANCE    135 

We  are  sorry  to  state  that  Miss  Perry's  lips  suf- 
fered an  unmistakable  twitch. 

"Have  you  ever  tasted  cream  buns,  Jim?"  said 
she. 

"  No,"  said  Jim ;  "  we  don't  get  those  refinements 
at  Balham.  But  tell  me,  how  is  the  Muffin  Girl,  and 
the  Polly  Girl,  and  the  Milly  Girl,  and  Dickie  and 
Charley,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  barbarian  horde.? 
And  what  is  the  Goose  Girl  doing  so  far  away  from 
Slocum  Magna?  How  has  she  found  her  way  into 
this  superlative  neighborhood  ?  "  The  eye  of  Jim 
Lascelles  was  arrested  by  Miss  Perry's  formal  blue 
serge.  "  Governess,  eh  ?  How  funny  that  the  Goose 
Girl,  with  the  brains  of  a  bumble-bee,  should  be 
turned  into  a  governess !  " 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  Didn't  you  know? 
I  have  come  to  live  with  Aunt  Caroline." 

"Aunt  who?" 

"  Aunt  Caroline,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Then  she  must  be  one  of  the  grand  relations  the 
Polly  Girl  used  to  boast  about,  that  would  never  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  family  of  Slocum  Magna." 

We  hope  and  trust  that  neither  Aunt  Caroline  nor 
Ponto  overheard  Jim  Lascelles ;  in  fact,  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  they  did  not,  because  had  they 
done  so,  it  is  our  firm  belief  that  this  history  would 
have  been  over  almost  as  soon  as  it  had  begun.  Yet 
this  was  the  indubitable  moment  that  Ponto  and  his 
mistress  chose  to  make  their  entrance  into  the  blue 
drawing-room.  The  instant  Jim  Lascelles  caught 
sight  of  the  headdress,  the  black  silk,  the  ebony  walk- 


136  ARAMINTA 

ing-stick,  and  the  obese  quadruped  with  gargoyle 
eyes,  he  checked  his  discourse  and  bowed  in  a  very  be- 
coming manner. 

"  Aunt  CaroHne,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  a  presence 
of  mind  which  really  did  her  the  highest  credit,  "  this 
is  Mr.  Lascelles,  who  has  come  to  paint  the  picture." 

The  old  lady  fixed  her  eyeglass  with  polar  coolness. 

"  So  I  perceive,"  said  she. 

She  looked  Jim  over  as  if  he  himself  were  a  master- 
piece by  Gainsborough,  and  without  making  any 
comment  she  and  Ponto  withdrew  from  the  blue 
drawing-room. 

"  A  singularly  disagreeable  and  ill-bred  old 
woman,"  said  Jim,  who  had  the  unfortunate  habit  of 
speaking  his  mind  freely  on  all  occasions. 

"  Aunt  Caroline  is  rather  reserved  with  strangers," 
said  Miss  Perry,  "  but  she  is  a  dear,  really." 

"  She  is  not  a  dear  at  all,"  said  Jim  Lascelles, 
"  and  she's  not  a  bit  like  one.  She  is  just  a  proud, 
disagreeable,  and  unmannerly  old  woman." 

Miss  Perry  looked  genuinely  concerned.  For  Jim 
Lascelles  was  angry,  and  she  felt  herself  to  be  per- 
sonally responsible  for  Aunt  Caroline.  However, 
there  was  one  resource  left  for  the  hour  of  affliction. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  Tobias  ?  "  said  she.  "  I've 
got  him  with  me.     I  will  fetch  the  sweet." 

"  What,  is  that  ferret  still  alive.?  "  said  Jim.  "  My 
hat !  "  And  then  as  Miss  Perry  moved  to  the  draw- 
ing-room door,  said  James,  "  Oh  no,  you  don't.  Come 
back  and  sit  there  on  the  sofa  if  it  is  quite  up  to  your 
weight,  and  I  will  show  you  how  to  paint  a  picture." 


LASCELLES  MAKES  ITIS  APPEARANCE    137 

"  What  fun !  "  cried  Miss  Perry,  returning  obedi- 
ently. "  Do  you  remember  teaching  me  how  to  draw 
cows  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  You  could 
draw  as  good  a  cow  as  anybody  I  ever  saw,  and  that's 
the  only  thing  you  could  do  except  sit  a  horse  and 
handle  a  ferret  and  eat  bread  and  jam." 

Miss  Perry  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  sofa.  By 
force  of  habit  she  assumed  her  most  characteristic 
pose. 

"  There  was  also  one  other  thing  you  could  do," 
said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  When  you  were  not  actually 
engaged  in  eating  bread  and  jam,  you  could  always 
sit  hours  on  end  with  your  finger  in  your  mouth  think- 
ing how  you  were  going  to  eat  it." 

Jim  took  up  his  charcoal. 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  he,  "  it's  the  oddest  thing  out. 
Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  had  the  habit  of  stick- 
ing her  paw  into  her  mouth.  And  I'll  take  my  davy 
her  thoughts  were  of  bread  and  jam." 

"  Cream  buns  are  so  much  nicer,"  said  Miss  Perry, 
sighing  gently. 

"  You  have  grown  a  perfect  Sybarite  since  you 
came  to  London,"  said  Jim.  "  Nobody  ever  suspected 
the  existence  of  cream  buns  at  Slocum  Magna." 

Suddenly,  and  without  any  sort  of  warning,  some- 
thing flashed  through  the  mind  of  Jim  Lascelles ;  and 
this  by  some  occult  means  conferred  the  air  and  the 
look  upon  him  that  gets  people  into  encyclopedias. 

"  Don't  move.  Goose  Girl,"  said  he.  "  Do  you  know 
who  has  painted  that  hair  of  yours.?  " 


138  ARAMINTA 

"  I  don't  tliink  it  has  been  painted,"  said  Miss 
Perry. 

"  That  is  all  you  know,"  said  Jim.  "  Your  hair  has 
been  painted  by  the  light  of  the  morning." 

Jim  Lascelles  laid  down  his  charcoal  and  took  up 
the  brush  that  on  a  day  was  to  make  him  famous.  He 
dipped  it  in  bright  yellow  pigment ;  and  although,  as 
all  the  world  knows,  the  hair  of  Araminta,  Duchess 
of  Dorset,  is  unmistakably  auburn,  Jim  began  by 
flinging  a  splotch  of  yellow  upon  the  great  canvas. 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  with  an  expression  of  joy 
that  made  him  seem  preposterously  fine  to  look  at,  "  I 
have  sometimes  felt  that  if  it  should  ever  be  my  luck 
to  happen  upon  a  great  subject,  I  might  turn  out  a 
painter." 

"  Your  mamma  always  said  you  would,"  said  Miss 
Perry. 

"  And  your  papa  always  said  you  would  marry 
an  earl,"  said  Jim  Lascelles. 

Quite  suddenly  the  blue  drawing-room  vibrated 
with  a  note  of  triumph. 

"  Oh,  Jim !  I've  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  about 
my  lilac  frock." 

"  Have  you  a  lilac  frock  ?  " 

"  You  remember  the  mauve  that  Muffin  had.^^  "  said 
Miss  Perry,  breathlessly. 

"  After  my  time,"  said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  But  I  pity 
a  mauve  on  the  Ragamuffin." 

"  Muffin's  mauve  was  perfect,"  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  And  my  lilac  is  nearly  as  nice  as  Muffin's." 

"  Put  it  on  to-morrow,"  said  Jim.     "  I'll  inspect 


LASCELLES  MAKES  illS  APPEARANCE    139 

you  in  it,  you  great  overgrown  thing.  Now,  don't 
move  the  Goose  Piece,  you  silly.  The  light  of  the 
morning  strikes  it  featly.  Really  I  doubt  whether 
this  yellow  be  bright  enough." 

"  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  to-morrow  I  will  show 
you  my  new  hat." 

"  Stick  your  paw  in  your  mouth,"  said  Jim.  "  And 
don't  dare  to  take  it  out  until  you  are  told  to.  And 
keep  the  Goose  Piece  just  where  it  is.  Think  of 
cream  buns." 

"  They  are  awfully  nice,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

Jim  Lascelles  dabbed  another  fearsome  splotch  of 
yellow  upon  the  great  canvas. 

"  Monsieur  Gillet  would  give  his  great  French 
soul,"  said  Jim,  softly,  "  for  the  hair  of  the  foolish 
Goose  Girl  whose  soul  is  composed  of  cream  buns.  Ye 
Gods !  " 

Why  James  Lascelles  should  have  been  guilty  of 
that  irrelevant  exclamation  I  cannot  say.  Perhaps  it 
was  that  the  young  fellow  fancied  that  he  heard  the 
first  faint  distant  crackle  of  the  immortal  laughter. 
Well,  well !  we  are  but  mortal,  and  who  but  the  gods 
have  made  us  so.? 


CHAPTER  XI 

MISS    PERRY    IS    THE    SOUL    OF    DISCRETION 

THE  next  morning  at  ten  o'clock,  when  Jim 
Lascelles  appeared  for  the  second  time  in  Hill 
Street,  he  was  received  in  the  blue  drawing-room  by 
the  lilac  frock  and  its  wonderful  canopy.  Jim  gave 
back  a  step  before  the  picture  that  was  presented. 

"  My  aunt !  "  said  he. 

"  The  frock  is  a  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  Isn't 
it.?     Muffin's " 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  you  are  marvelous." 

"  I  think  the  hat  must  flop  a  little  too  much,"  said 
Miss  Perry,  "  in  places.  It  makes  people  turn  round 
to  stare  at  it." 

"  Of  course  it  does,  you  foolish  person,"  said  Jim, 
with  little  guff'aws  of  rapture.  "  It  is  an  absolute 
aboriginal  runcible  hat.  How  did  you  come  by  it.? 
It  seems  to  me  there  are  deep  minds  in  this." 

"  Lord  Cheriton  chose  it,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  My  noble  patron  and  employer.  It  does  him  in- 
finite credit.     That  hat  is  an  achievement." 

"  Aunt  Caroline  doesn't  Hke  it,"  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  Especially  in  church." 

"  Aunt  Caroline  is  a  Visigoth,"  said  Jim.  "  Let  us 
forget  her.     Sit  there,  you  Goose,  where  you  sat  yes- 

140 


MISS  PERRY  THE  SOLE  OF  DISCRETION  141 

terday.  And  if  you  don't  move  and  don't  speak  for 
an  hour,  you  shall  have  a  cream  bun." 

It  was  bribery,  of  course,  on  the  part  of  Jim  Las- 
celles,  but  Miss  Perry  made  instant  preparation  to 
earn  the  promised  guerdon. 

"  You  are  so  marvelous,"  said  Jim,  "  that  poor 
painting  chaps  ought  not  to  look  at  you.  Oho !  I 
begin  to  have  light.  I  begin  to  see  where  that  lilac 
arrangement  and  that  incredible  headpiece  came 
from.  By  the  way,  Goose  Girl,  is  it  possible  that 
Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  is  one  of  your  grand 
relations.^  " 

"  She  is  my  great-grandmamma,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  She  must  be,"  said  Jim.  "  What  has  old  Dame 
Nature  been  doing,  I  wonder.^  Copying  former  suc- 
cesses. And  old  Sir  President  History,  R.A.,  famous 
painter  of  genre,  repeating  himself  like  one  o'clock." 

Jim  Lascelles  began  to  sketch  the  incredible  hat 
with  great  vigor  and  boldness. 

"  By  all  the  gods  of  Monsieur  Gillet,"  said  Jim, 
vaingloriously,  "  they  will  want  a  rail  to  guard  it  at 
the  Luxembourg." 

Yet  Jim  was  really  a  modest  young  fellow.  Could 
li  be  that  already  a  phial  of  the  magic  potion  had 
been  injected  into  the  veins  of  that  sane  and  amiable 
youth  ? 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  it  is  quite  clear  to  me 
that  if  the  Duchess  was  your  great-grandmamma, 
Thomas  Gainsborough,  R.A.,  was  my  old  great- 
granddad.  Now,  don't  move  the  Goose  Piece.  She 
wear-eth  a  mar-vel-ous  hat !  "     Jim's  charcoal  was 


142  ARAMINTA 

performing  surprising  antics.  "  Chin  Piece  quite 
still.  Wonderful  natural  angle.  Can  you  keep  good 
if  you  take  your  paw  out  of  your  mouth?  " 

"  I  will  try  to,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  perfect 
docility. 

"  We  will  risk  it,"  said  Jim.  "  Keep  saying  to 
yourself,  '  Only  thirty-five  minutes  more  and  I  get  a 
cream  bun.'  " 

"  Yes,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  a  remarkable 
air  of  intelligence. 

"  Paws  down,"  said  Jim.  "  Hold  'em  thusly. 
Move  not  the  Chin  Piece,  the  Young  Man  said.  No, 
and  not  the  Whole  of  the  White  and  Pink  and  Blue 
and  Yellow  Goose  Piece  neither." 

Perhaps  it  is  not  strictly  accurate  to  state  that 
Jim  dropped  into  poetry  as  he  continued  the  study  of 
his  subject.  But  certainly  he  indulged  in  a  kind  of 
language  which  assumed  lyrical  form. 

"  Paws  down,"  said  Jim.  "  She  approacheth  her 
Mouth  Piece  upon  pain  of  losing  her  Bun.  Paw 
Pieces  quite  quiet.  Move  not  the  Chin  Piece,  the 
Young  Man  said." 

The  blue  eyes  of  Miss  Perry  were  open  to  their 
limit.  They  seemed  to  devour  the  slow-ticking  clock 
upon  the  chimney-piece.  At  last  virtue  was  able  to 
claim  its  reward. 

"  Cream  bun,  please,"  drawled  Miss  Perry,  in  a 
manner  that  was  really  ludicrous. 

"  It  can't  possibly  be  an  hour  yet,"  said  Jim. 

"  It  is,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  great  conviction. 
"  It  is  honestly,''' 


MISS  PERRY  THE  SOUL  OF  DISCRETION  143 

"  Very  good,"  said  Jim.  "  Young  Man  taketh 
Goose  Girl's  word  of  honor."  He  produced  a  neat- 
looking  white  paper  packet  from  his  coat  pocket. 
"  Goose  Girl  presenteth  Paw  Piece,"  said  he,  "  to  re- 
ceive Diploma  of  Merit.  A  short  interval  for  slight 
but  well-deserved  nourishment." 

Miss  Perry  lost  no  time  in  divesting  the  packet  of 
its  trappings.  I  don't  say  positively  that  her  satis- 
faction assumed  an  audible  form  when  she  beheld  the 
seductive  delicacy  of  its  contents.  But,  at  all  events, 
she  lost  no  time  in  taking  a  very  large  bite  out  of  a 
bun  of  quite  modest  dimensions. 

"  Jim,"  said  she,  "  it  is  quite  as  nice  as  the  ones 
that  come  from  Buszard's." 

"  It  is  their  own  brother,"  said  Jim.  "  This  comes 
from  Buszard's." 

"  R-R-Really,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  a  doubtful 
roll  of  the  letter  R.  "  But  tliose  that  Gobo  brings 
me  are  larger." 

"  They  grow  more  than  one  size  at  Buszard's," 
said  Jim.  "  Gobo  is  a  bit  of  a  duke,  I  dare 
say." 

"  He  is  a  duke,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  If  I  were  a  duke,"  said  Jim,  "  I  should  bring 
you  the  large  size.  But  as  I  am  only  Jim  Lascelles 
who  lives  at  Balham  w^ith  his  old  mother,  you  will 
have  to  be  content  with  the  small  ones." 

It  may  have  been  that  Miss  Perry  was  a  little 
disappointed,  because  the  small  ones  only  meant  a 
bite  and  a  little  one.  But  she  contrived  to  con- 
ceal her  disappointment  very  successfully.    Although 


144  ARAMINTA 

brought  up  in  the  country  she  had  excellent 
breeding. 

"Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "where  is  Balham?'- 

"  Quite  a  ducal  question,"  said  Jim. 

"  Is  it  as  far  from  London  as  London  is  from  Slo- 
cum  Magna?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  I  acquit  you  of  arriere  pensee,'''  said  Jim. 
"  Here  is  Lord  Cheriton.  You  had  better  ask  him 
where  Balham  is." 

That  nobleman  in  resplendent  morning  attire  en- 
tered with  an  air  that  was  fatherly. 

"  Is  it  my  privilege  to  make  you  known  to  one 
another  .f^  "  said  he,  with  an  air  of  vast  benevolence. 
"  My  ward.  Miss  Perry.  Mr.  Lascelles,  the  coming 
Gainsborough." 

"  Oh,   I've  known   Jim "   Miss    Perry    began 

blurting,  when  it  is  grievous  to  have  to  inform  the 
gentle  reader  that  elim  Lascelles  dealt  her  a  stealthy 
but  absolutely  unmistakable  kick  on  the  shin  in  quite 
the  old  Widdiford  manner. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  Balham  is?  "  Miss  Perry 
inquired  of  Lord  Cheriton  with  really  wonderful 
presence  of  mind.  But  there  was  a  real  honest  tear 
in  her  eyes ;  and  tears  are  known  to  be  an  excellent 
old-fashioned  specific  for  the  w4ts. 

"  Certainly  I  can,"  said  he,  with  courtly  alacrity. 
"  Balham  is  an  outlying  part  of  the  vast  metropolis. 
It  is  a  most  interesting  place  with  many  honorable 
associations." 

"  Jim,"  the  luckless  Miss  Perry  was  beginning,  but 
happily  on  this  occasion  Jim  Lascelles  had  no  need 


MISS  PERRY  THE  SOLL  OF  DISCRETION  145 

to  do  more  than  show  her  hig  boot,  while  Cheriton's 
sense  of  hearing  was  by  no  means  so  acute  as  it  might 
have  been ;  "  Mr.  Lascelles,"  Miss  Perry  contrived  to 
correct  herself,  "  lives  at  Balham." 

"  Then  we  are  able,"  said  Cheriton,  "  to  congratu- 
late Mr.  Lascelles  and  also  to  congratulate  Balham. 
But  tell  me,  Lascelles,  w^hy  you  live  in  an  outlying 
part  of  the  vast  metropoHs  when  the  center  calls 
you.?  " 

"  We  live  at  Balham,"  said  Jim,  "  my  mother  and 
I,  because  it  is  cheap  and  respectable." 

"  A  satisfying  combination,"  said  Cheriton.  "  I 
trust  the  presence  of  my  ward,  Miss  Perry,  does  not 
retard  the  progress  of  your  artistic  labors.?  " 

"  Quite  the  contrary,  I  assure  you,"  said  Jim,  with 
excellent  politeness. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  Cheriton.  "  But  as  you 
may  have  already"  discovered.  Miss  Perry  has  quite 
the  feeling  for  art." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim,  perhaps  conventionally,  "  I  am 
sure  she  has." 

"  It  is  a  very  remarkable  case  of  heredity.  You 
see,  my  dear  Lascelles,  Gainsborough  painted  her 
great-grandmamma." 

"  So  I  understand,"  said  Jim,  with  great  solem- 
nity. 

"  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me,  my  dear  Lascelles, 
that  Miss  Perry's  taste  in  art  is  so  sure.  We  go  to 
the  National  Gallery  together,  hand  in  hand  as  it 
were,  to  admire  the  great  Velasquez." 

"  He  is  a  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry. 


146  ARAMINTA 

"  And,  my  dear  Lascelles,  we  profoundly  admire 
the  great  Rembrandt  also." 

"  He  is  a  sweet  too,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  And,  my  dear  Lascelles,  together  we  share — Miss 
Perry  and  I — a  slight  distrust  of  the  permanent 
merit  of  Joseph  Wright  of  Derby.  The  fact  is, 
Joseph  Wright  of  Derby  somehow  fails  to  inspire  our 
confidence.  One  can  understand  Joseph  Wright  of 
Sheffield  perfectly  well ;  or  even  perhaps — mind,  I  do 
not  say  positively — Joseph  Wright  of  Nottingham; 
but  I  put  it  to  you,  Lascelles,  can  one  accept  Joseph 
Wright  of  Derby  as  belonging  to  all  time.^  " 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Jim.  "  Yet  was  there 
not  once  an  immortal  born  at  Burton-on-Trent  .'^  " 

"  I  never  heard  that  there  was,"  said  Cheriton, 
with  an  air  of  pained  surprise.  "  And  that  is  a  mat- 
ter upon  which  I  am  hardly  open  to  conviction.  By 
the  way,  Lascelles,  which  of  England's  luscious  pas- 
tures had  the  glory  of  giving  birth  to  your  genius.'^  " 

As  a  preliminary  measure  Jim  Lascelles  showed 
Miss  Perry  his  boot. 

"  I  was  born,"  said  Jim,  modestly,  yet  observing 
that  the  blue  eyes  of  Miss  Perry  were  adequately 
fixed  on  his  boot,  "  at  a  little  place  called  Widdiford, 
in  the  north  of  Devon." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Cheriton,  graciously ;  "  I 
ought  to  have  remembered,  as  your  father  and  I  were 
at  school  together.  I  remember  distinctly  that  it  was 
the  opinion  of  the  fourth  form  common  room  that  the 
finest  clotted  cream  and  the  finest  strawberry  jam 
in  the  world  came  from  Widdiford." 


MISS  PERRY  THE  SOUI   OF  DISCRETION  147 

"  It  is  almost  as  nice  at  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Miss 
Perry,  in  spite  of  the  covert  threat  that  was  still 
lurking  in  Jim's  outstretched  boot. 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Cheriton.  "  Ha,  happy  halcyon 
days  of  youth,  when  the  cream  was  really  clotted  and 
the  strawberries  were  really  ripe !  But  I  seem  to  re- 
member that  Widdiford  is  remarkable  for  something 
else." 

Miss  Perry  was  prepared  to  enlighten  Lord  Cher- 
iton, but  Jim's  boot  rose  ferociously. 

"  Stick  paw  in  Mouth  Piece,"  Jim  whispered  trucu- 
lently, "  and  merely  think  of  cream  buns." 

"  Widdiford,"  said  Cheriton,  "  let  me  see.  In  what 
connection  have  I  heard  that  charmingly  poetic 
name?  Ah,  to  be  sure,  I  remember — Widdiford  is 
the  place  at  which  they  have  not  quite  got  the  rail- 
way, don't  you  know.  Miss  Araminta,  is  not  that 
the  case.f^  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Perry ;  "  but  it  is  only  three 
miles  away." 

"  And  what  is  the  proximity,"  said  Cheriton,  a 
little  dubiously  it  is  to  be  feared,  "  of  Widdiford  to 
Slocum  Magna  ?  " 

"  The  best  part  of  two  miles,"  said  Jim  Lascelles, 
boldly  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns.  "  Quite  a  coinci- 
dence, isn't  it,  that  we  should  have  lived  at  the  Red 
House  at  Widdiford,  and  that  Miss  Perry's  papa 
should  have  lived  at  the  Parsonage,  at  Slocum 
Magna.?  In  fact,  I  seem  to  remember  Miss  Perry  or 
one  of  her  sisters  as  quite  a  tot  of  a  girl  sitting  as 
good  as  pie  in  the  vicarage  pew." 


148  ARAMINTA 

It  was  here  that  Jim's  boot  did  wonders.  Miss 
Perry  was  simply  besieged  by  voices  from  the  upper 
atmosphere  beseeching  her  to  give  the  whole  thing 
away  completely.  She  refrained,  however.  Her  re- 
spect for  Jim's  boot  enabled  her  to  continue  sitting 
as  good  as  pie. 

That  being  the  case,  let  us  offer  this  original  piece 
of  observation  for  what  it  is  worth.  Cream  buns  are 
remarkably  efficient  in  some  situations,  while  an  un- 
compromising right  boot  is  equally  efficient  in  others. 
To  Jim  Lascelles  belongs  the  credit  of  having  assim- 
ilated early  in  life  this  excellent  truth. 

Cheriton  turned  to  see  what  progress  Jim  Las- 
celles had  made  with  his  labors. 

"  Very  good  progress,  Lascelles,"  said  he.  Yet 
something  appeared  to  trouble  my  lord.  "  Upon  my 
word,"  said  he,  "  either  my  eyesight  betrays  me  Qr 
the  color  of  your  girl's  hair  is  yellow."  * 

"Is  it.f^"  said  Jim  Lascelles,  innocently.  "Yes, 
so  it  is,  as  yellow  as  the  light  of  the  morning." 

"  The  duchess's  hair  is  auburn,  unmistakably." 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Jim ;  "  but  really,  don't  you 
think  yellow  will  be  quite  as  successful  .f^  " 

Cheriton  gazed  at  Jim  Lascelles  in  profound  as- 
tonishment. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  "  I  hope  you  under- 
stand what  you  are  commissioned  to  do.  You  are 
commissioned  to  make  a  precise  and  exact  copy  of 
Gainsborough's  Duchess  of  Dorset  for  Cheriton 
House,  not  to  perpetrate  a  tour  de  force  of  your  own. 
Upon  my  word,  Lascelles,    that    hair    is    really  too 


MISS  PERRY  THE  SOUL  OF  DISCRETION  149 

much.  And  the  set  of  the  hat,  as  far  as  one  may 
judge  at  present,  certainly  differs  from  the  original. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  so,  Lascelles,  but  really  I  think  in 
the  interests  of  all  parties  it  would  be  well  if  you 
started  again." 

Jim  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Upon  his  hand- 
some countenance  was  a  very  whimsical  if  somewhat 
dubious  expression. 

"  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  he,  solemnly,  "  the  truth  is, 
if  I  could  have  afforded  to  lose  a  cool  hundred 
pounds,  which  I  don't  mind  saying  is  more  than  the 
whole  of  what  I  made  last  year,  I  should  not  have 
accepted  this  commission.  As  I  have  accepted  it  I 
shall  do  my  best ;  and  if  the  results  are  not  satisfac- 
tory I  shall  not  look  for  remuneration." 

"  Well,  Lascelles,"  said  his  patron,  "  that  is  a 
straightforward  proposition.  I  dare  say  it  is  this 
confounded  French  method  of  looking  at  things  that 
has  misled  you  so  hopelessly.  'Pon  my  word,  I  never 
saw  such  hair,  and  Gillet  never  saw  such  hair  either. 
It  is  enough  to  make  Gainsborough  turn  in  his  grave. 
It  is  most  providential  that  I  happened  to  look  in. 
Take  a  fresh  piece  of  canvas  and  start  again." 

Jim  Lascelles  laid  his  head  to  one  side  with  a  con- 
tinuance of  his  whimsical  and  dubious  air.  There 
was  no  doubt  that  the  yellov/  was  extremely  bold  and 
that  the  hair  of  the  duchess  was  auburn. 

Yet  what  of  the  cause  of  the  mischief?  There  she 
sat  on  the  sofa  in  her  favorite  pose,  blissfully  uncon- 
scious of  the  trouble  she  had  wrought,  for  there 
could  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  her  thoughts  were 


150  ARAMINTA 

of  cream  buns.  And  further,  it  seemed  to  Jim  Las- 
celles  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  either  that  her  hair 
had  been  painted  by  the  hght  of  the  morning.  Cher- 
iton,  however,  was  too  much  preoccupied  with  the 
duchess  to  observe  that  fact. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Araminta,"  said  he,  "  as  this  is  a 
really  fine  morning,  and  this  is  really  the  month  of 
May,  let  us  stroll  into  the  park  and  watch  young 
England  performing  maritime  feats  on  the  Serpen- 
tine. And  after  luncheon,  if  the  weather  keeps  fine, 
we  will  go  to  the  circus." 

"  What  fun !  "  said  Miss  Perry. 


CHAPTER  XII 

JIM    LASCELLES    TAKES    A    DECISIVE    STEP 

CAROLINE  CREWKERNE'S  "Wednesdays" 
had  not  been  so  thronged  for  many  years  past. 
They  had  been  in  their  heyday  twenty  years  earher 
in  the  world's  history,  when  the  spacious  mansion  in 
Hill  Street  was  the  fount  of  the  most  malicious  gos- 
sip to  be  obtained  in  London.  But  the  passing  of  the 
years  had  bereft  Caroline  of  something  of  her  vigor 
and  of  even  more  of  her  savoir  faire.  She  had  grown 
difficult  and  rather  out  of  date. 

However,  it  had  recently  been  decreed  in  the  inter- 
ests of  human  nature  that  Caroline  Crewkerne  should 
come  into  vogue  again.  People  were  to  be  seen  at 
her  "  Wednesdays  "  who  had  not  been  seen  there  for 
years. 

There  was  George  Betterton  for  one.  And  the 
worldly  wise,  of  course,  were  very  quick  to  account 
for  his  presence,  and  to  turn  it  to  pleasure  and  profit. 
Cheriton  and  he  were  both  popular  men;  and  about 
the  third  week  in  May  two  to  one  against  George  and 
three  to  one  against  Cheriton  were  taken  and  offered. 

"  Cheriton  is  the  prettier  sparrer,"  said  students 
of  form,  "  but  Gobo,  of  course,  has  the  weight." 

"  I  assure  you,  my  dear,"  said  a  decidedly  influen- 
tial section  of  the  public,  "  the  creature  is  a  perfect 

151 


152  ARAMINTA 

simpleton.  I  assure  jou  she  couldn't  say  '  Bo !  '  to  a 
goose.  It  is  inconceivable  that  two  men  as  old  as 
they  are  and  in  their  position  should  make  themselves 
so  supremely  ridiculous.  And  both  of  them  old 
enough  to  be  her  father." 

"  Caroline  Crewkerne  is  behind  it  all,"  said  the 
philosophical.  "  Her  hand  has  lost  nothing  of  its 
cunning.  Really  it  is  odious  to  aid  and  abet  them  to 
make  such  an  exhibition  of  themselves." 

It  is  regrettable,  all  the  same,  to  have  to  state  that 
the  exhibition  was  enjoyed  hugely.  And  when  the 
Morning  Post  announced  that  on  a  certain  evening 
the  Countess  of  Crewkerne  would  give  a  dance  for 
Miss  Perry,  there  was  some  little  competition  to  re- 
ceive a  card. 

Cards  were  liberally  dispensed,  but  when  they  came 
to  hand  many  persons  of  the  quieter  and  less  ostenta- 
tious sort  found  that  a  little  fly  liad  crept  into  the 
ointment.  "  Fancy  dress  "  was  to  be  seen  written  at 
the  top  in  a  style  of  caligraphy  not  unworthy  of 
Miss  Pinkerton's  academy  for  young  ladies.  Miss 
Burden  had  been  commanded  to  do  this  at  the  eleventh 
hour. 

"  That  man  Cheriton  is  responsible  for  this,"  com- 
plained those  who  desired  neither  the  expense  nor  the 
inconvenience  of  habiting  themselves  in  the  garb  of 
another  age,  "  because  he  thinks  he  looks  well  in 
breeches." 

That  may  have  been  partly  the  reason ;  but  in 
justice  to  Cheriton  it  is  only  right  to  state  that,  un- 
less he  had  found  a  weightier  pretext  to  advance. 


LASCELLES  TAKES  A  DECISIVE  STEP     153 

Caroline  Crewkerne  would  never  have  assented  to  this 
somewhat  eccentric  condition.  Indeed,  it  was  only 
after  a  heated  argument  between  them  that  Cheriton 
contrived  to  get  his  way. 

"  You  must  always  be  flamboyant  and  theatrical," 
grunted  Caroline,  "  at  every  opportunity.  All  the 
world  knows  you  look  well  in  breeches." 

"  I  protest,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said  the  mellifluous 
Cheriton ;  "  it  is  merely  my  desire  to  put  another 
plume  in  your  helmet.  The  creature  will  look  ravish- 
ing as  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset.  Pelissier  shall 
come  this  afternoon  to  copy  the  picture  de  liaut  en 
has.'' 

"  It  has  been  copied  once  already." 

"  Ah,  no !  It  supplied  an  idea  or  two  merely. 
When  you  see  it  in  every  detail  precisely  as  Gains- 
borough saw  it,  you  will  observe  the  diff*erence." 

"  People  must  be  as  sick  of  the  picture  as  I  am  by 
this  time." 

"Nonsense!  They  are  only  just  beginning  to 
realize  that  you've  got  a  picture." 

Let  it  not  be  thought  an  injustice  to  Cheriton  if 
one  other  motive  is  advanced  for  his  insistence  upon 
a  somewhat  singular  course.  When  the  cards  of  in- 
vitation had  been  duly  issued  he  rather  let  the  cat 
out  of  his  bag. 

"  Of  course,  Caroline,  you  would  be  obstinate," 
said  he,  "  and  have  your  own  way  about  that  fellow 
George  Betterton,  but  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
in  any  kind  of  fancy  clothes  he  looks  like  a  boa-con- 
strictor." 


154  ARAMINTA 

At  first  Cheriton  professed  himself  unable  to  de- 
cide whether  he  should  appear  as  Charles  II.  or  as 
John  Wesley.  In  the  end,  however,  he  decided  in 
favor  of  the  former.  Miss  Burden  had  not  been  so 
excited  for  years.  The  subject  filled  her  thoughts 
day  and  night  for  a  whole  week  after  the  momentous 
decision  was  taken.  She  then  submitted  one  day  to 
his  lordship  at  luncheon  a  peculiarly  difficult  problem. 

"  Not  a  problem  at  all,"  said  he.  "  Simplest  thing 
in  the  world,  my  dear  lady.  There  is  only  one  pos- 
sible person  you  can  go  as." 

"  I  had  been  thinking  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots," 
said  Miss  Burden,  hardly  daring  to  hope  that  Lord 
Cheriton  would  give  his  sanction. 

"  Mary  Queen  of  who !  "  snarled  Caroline. 

"  No,  my  dear  Miss  Burden,"  said  the  eminent 
authority,  "  the  only  possible  person  you  can  go  as  is 
Katharine  of  Aragon." 

"  Nonsense,  Cheriton !  "  said  Caroline.  "  I  shall 
not  permit  Burden  to  appear  in  any  such  character. 
A  Jane  Austen  spinster  will  be  far  more  appropriate 
and  far  less  expensive." 

"  My  dear  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  "  how  it  would 
help  everybody  if  you  did  not  insist  on  airing  your 
views  upon  matters  of  art !  Do  you  wish  Miss  Burden 
to  forfeit  entirely  her  natural  distinction.'^  " 

Miss  Burden  blushed  most  becomingly  at  his  lord- 
ship's remark. 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  she  had  any,"  said  the 
ruthless  Caroline. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Caroline,  even  I  begin  to  despair 


LASCELLES  TAKES  A  DECISIVE  STEP     155 

of  you.  I  assure  you  Miss  Burden  is  quite  one  of 
the  most  distinguished-looking  women  of  my  acquaint- 
ance." 

Miss  Burden  looked  almost  as  startled  as  a  fawn. 
Cheriton  had  never  seen  her  display  so  much  color  as 
when  he  made  her  a  little  bow  to  attest  his  bona  fides. 
It  was  rather  a  pity  that  his  smile  unconsciously 
resembled  that  of  a  satyr ;  not,  hov/ever,  that  it  really 
mattered,  for  although  the  ever-observant  Caroline 
duly  noted  it  Miss  Burden  did  not. 

"  It  is  twenty-five  minutes  past  two,  Lord  Cher- 
iton," said  Miss  Perry,  putting  a  sugar-plum  in  her 
mouth,  "  and  you  have  promised  to  take  me  to  the 
circus." 

"  Cheriton,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  I  forbid  you  to 
do  anything  of  the  kind.  To  spend  three  afternoons 
a  week  at  a  circus  is  outrageous." 

"  They  are  so  educational,"  said  Cheriton.  "  De- 
velop the  mind.  Show  how  Intelligence  can  be  in- 
culcated into  the  most  unlikely  things.  Horses  good 
at  arithmetic,  dogs  playing  whist,  cats  indulging 
in  spiritualism.  Very  educational  indeed.  Clown 
imitating  monkey  in  lifelike  manner.  Illustration  of 
the  origin  of  species.  One  more  sugar-plum,  my  dear 
Miss  Araminta,  and  then  Marchbanks  will  simimon  a 
taximeter,  if  possible,  v*'ith  a  tonneau  painted  pink." 

"  Gobo  is  going  to  take  me  to  the  Horse  Show  to- 
morrow," Miss  Perry  announced. 

"  Who,  pray,  is  Gobo.^  "  Aunt  Caroline  and  Lord 
Cheriton  demanded  in  one  breath. 

"  He  asked  me  to  call  him  Gobo,"  said  Miss  Perry, 


156  ARAMINTA 

helping  herself  calmly  to  sugar-plums,  "  and  I  asked 
him  to  call  me  Goose." 

Cheriton's  countenance  was  unmistakably  a  study. 
The  same  might  be  said  of  that  of  Aunt  Caroline. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  said  Cheriton,  "  this  can- 
not be.  One  of  the  most  dangerous  men  in  London. 
Really,  Caroline,  you  must  forbid  that  old  ruffian 
the  house.  As  for  the  Horse  Show  to-morrow,  it  is 
clearly  out  of  the  question." 

"  I  promised  Gobo,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  and  I  don't 
like  to  break  a  promise;  do  you.^^  " 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  you  are  much  too  young 
and  inexperienced  to  make  a  promise,  let  alone  to  keep 
one.  I  speak  as  I  feel  sure  your  papa  would  do  were 
he  in  my  place,  and  as  I  know  I  should  do  were  I  in 
the  place  of  your  papa.  Your  aunt  is  quite  of  that 
opinion ;  I  speak  for  her  also.  You  must  not  call 
that  man  Gobo,  he  must  not  call  you  Goose,  and  as 
for  the  Horse  Show,  it  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  But  everybody  calls  me  Goose,"  said  Miss  Perry, 
"  because  I  am  rather  a  silly." 

"  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  with  much  gravity,  "  if 
you  will  take  the  advice  of  your  oldest  friend  you 
will  forbid  that  man  the  house.  My  dear  Miss  Ara- 
minta,  let  us  try  to  obliterate  a  very  disagreeable  im- 
pression by  spending  a  quietly  educational  afternoon 
at  the  circus." 

When  on  the  morning  of  the  great  day  of  the 
fancy  ball  Miss  Perry  entered  the  presence  of  Jim 
Lascelles  as  the  faithful  embodiment,  down  to  the 
minutest  particular,  of  Gainsborough's  masterpiece, 


LASCELLES  TAKES  A  DECISIVE  STEP     157 

that  assiduous  young  fellow  was  seized  with  despair. 
It  took  the  form  of  a  gasp. 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  have  to  give  up 
coming  here.  I  paint  you  all  the  morning,  I  think 
of  you  all  the  afternoon  and  evening,  and  I  dream  of 
you  all  night.  You  know  you  have  rather  knocked 
a  hole  in  my  little  world." 

"  There  will  be  ices  to-night,"  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  Lord  Cheriton  almost  thinks  pink  ices  are 
nicest." 

"  Confound  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim,  with  un- 
pardonable bluntness,  "  and  confound  pink  ices !  " 

"  I  thought  I  would  just  put  on  my  new  frock," 
said  Miss  Perry,  "  to  see  if  you  think  it  is  as  nice  as 
you  think  the  lilac  is." 

"  I  have  no  thoughts  at  all  this  morning,"  said 
Jim  Lascelles,  "  about  your  new  frock  or  about  any- 
thing else.  My  mind  is  a  chaos,  my  wretched  brain 
goes  round  and  round,  and  what  do  you  suppose  it  is 
because  of.''  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  It  is  because  of  you,"  said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  Look 
at  that  canvas  you've  ruined.  Yellow  hair — Gains- 
borough hat — lilac  frock — full-fledged  cream  bun 
appearance.  You  will  lose  me  my  commission,  which 
means  a  cool  hundred  pounds  out  of  my  pocket,  and 
my  mamma  has  denied  herself  common  necessaries  to 
pay  for  my  education.  Goose  Girl,"  Jim  Lascelles 
concluded  a  little  hoarsely,  "  I  am  growing  afraid  of 
you.  You  are  a  sorceress.  Something  teUs  me  that 
you  will  be  my  ruin." 


158  ARAMINTA 

"  I  wish  you  had  seen  Muffin's  mauve,"  said  Miss 
Perry,  who  showed  very  httle  concern  for  Jim's  ruin. 

"  I  have  not  the  least  desire  to  see  Muffin's 
mauve,"  said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  In  fact,  I  thank  the 
God  who  looks  after  poor  painters — if  there  is  such 
a  Deity,  which  I  take  leave  to  doubt — that  I  have  not 
seen  it.  But  I  intend  to  ask  you  this  question :  What 
right  have  you.  Goose  Girl,  to  grow  so  extravagantly 
perfect,  to  get  yourself  up  in  this  ravishing  and  en- 
trancing manner,  and  then  to  come  to  ask  a  poor 
wight  of  a  painting  chap,  who  is  daubing  away  for 
dear  bread  and  butter,  whether  he  thinks  your  new 
frock  is  as  nice  as  the  lilac  was.^^  " 

"  Muffin's  mauve "  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Answer  me,"  said  Jim,  sternly.  "  You  can't. 
You  are  a  sorceress.  You  are  a  v/eaver  of  spells. 
Well,  it  so  happens  that  I  am  susceptible  to  them.  I 
am  going  to  take  a  decisive  step.  Goose  Girl,  it  is 
my  intention  to  kiss  you." 

Without  further  preface  or  ado  Jim  Lascelles 
stepped  towards  Miss  Perry  with  extended  arms  and 
eyes  of  menace.  Pie  hugged  her  literally,  new  frock 
and  all,  in  the  open  hght  of  the  morning;  and  fur- 
ther, he  gave  her  one  of  the  most  resounding  busses 
that  was  ever  heard  in  that  dignified  apartment. 

"  Get  rid  of  that  if  you  are  able,"  said  he,  bra- 
zenly. "  And  now  sit  there,  as  good  as  pie,  while  I 
put  that  new  gown  upon  canvas." 

Miss  Perry  did  as  she  was  told  in  a  manner  that 
rather  implied  that  she  approved  decidedly  of  the 
whole  proceedings. 


LASCELLES  TAKES  A  DECISIVE  STEP      159 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  attacking  the  canvas, 
"  you  will  either  make  me  or  mar  me.  Sometimes  I 
feel  it  miorht  be  the  former,  but  more  often  I  am  con- 
vinced  it  will  be  the  latter." 

"  Muffin's  mauve  cost  a  lot  of  mone;^,"  said  Miss 
Perry. 

"  Paws  down,"  said  Jim.  "  The  question  now  for 
gods  and  men  is,  can  that  hair  and  that  frock  live 
together.'^  " 

Jim  took  up  a  little  looking-glass  and  turned  his 
back  upon  the  canvas.     He  sighed  with  relief. 

"  Yes,  they  can  by  a  miracle,"  said  he.  "  And  yet 
they  out-Gillet  Gillet." 

"  What  will  you  be  to-night,  Jim  .^  "  asked  Miss 
Perry. 

"  Achilles,  sulking  in  my  tent." 

"  Where  will  you  put  your  tent  ?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  One  can't  dance  in  a  tent.  And  what  will  you  do 
when  you  are  sulky .?  " 

"  Gnash  my  teeth  and  curse  my  luck." 

"  I  will  dance  with  you  twice  if  you  would  like 
me  to,"  said  Miss  Perry  with  charming  friend- 
liness. 

"  I  shall  not  be  there,"  said  Jim,  whose  studied 
unconcern  was  rather  a  failure. 

"  Not  be  there !  "  said  Miss  Perry,  with  consterna- 
tion. 

"  Aunt  Caroline  has  not  axed  me." 

It  was  some  kind  of  solace  to  Jim  Lascelles  that 
dismay  and  incredulity  contended  upon  the  usually 
calm  and  unruffled  countenance  of  Miss  Perry. 


160  ARAMINTA 

"  Miss  Burden  has  forgotten  you,"  said  slie.  "  I 
must  speak  to  her." 

Miss  Perry  rose  for  that  purpose. 

"  Sit  down,  you  Goose,"  Jim  commanded  her. 
"  Don't  speak  a  word  about  it  to  anybody,  unless 
you  want  to  get  me  sacked  from  the  house.  I  am  here 
on  sufferance,  a  poor  painting  chap,  copying  a  pic- 
ture to  get  bread  and  cheese ;  and  this  ball  to-night  is 
being  given  by  the  Countess  of  Crewkerne,  for  her 
niece  Miss  Perry." 

"  But,  Jim " 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  keep  Mouth  Piece  im- 
movable. Move  not  the  Chin  Piece,  the  Young  Man 
said.    Think  of  cream  buns." 

"  But,  Jim "  said  Miss  Perry. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

HIGH    REVEL    IS    HELD    IN    HILL    STREET 

ALL  the  same,  Miss  Perry  did  not  dance  twice 
^  with  Jim  Lascelles  that  evening.  For  Jim  took 
his  mother  to  the  Theatre  Royal,  at  Brixton,  to  wit- 
ness a  performance  of  that  excellent  old-world  com- 
edy, "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer." 

He  did  not  appear  to  enjoy  it  much.  He  hardly 
laughed  once,  and  his  mother  remarked  it. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  son.^  "  said  she.  It 
ought  to  be  stated  that  Jim's  mother  was  absurdly 
young  to  occupy  the  maternal  relation  to  a  great 
hulking  fellow  like  Jim. 

"  There  is  a  ridiculous  girl  in  my  head,"  said  he, 
"  who  is  above  me  in  station." 

"  That  Goose  .'^  "  said  Jim's  mother,  a  little  con- 
temptuously, it  is  to  be  feared. 

"  Yes,  Senora,"  said  Jim.  "  She  is  turning  my 
brain  rather  badly." 

Not  unnaturally  Jim's  mother  was  amused  that 
Jim  should  be  so  serious. 

"  If  only  I  had  enough  money  to  buy  back  the  Red 
House  at  Widdiford,"  sighed  Jim,  "  I  believe  I  could 
cut  out  them  all." 

"  She  was  never  able  to  resist  the  orchard,  and  the 
161 


162  ARAMINTA 

south  wall,  and  the  strawberry-beds,"  Mrs.  Lascelles 
agreed. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  creature,"  said  Jim.  "  Those 
lilac  frocks  and  those  Gainsborough  hats  are  mad- 
dening." 

"  Well,  laddie,"  said  Jim's  mxother,  "  you  must 
paint  her  and  make  her  and  yourself  famous." 

"  She  is  famous  already,"  said  Jim.  "  Worse  luck. 
She  is  a  nine  days'  wonder  in  Mayfair,  and  certain 
to  marry  a  duke." 

"  That  Goose !  "  said  Jim's  mother. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim ;  "  it  sounds  ridiculous,  but  it  is 
perfectly  true." 

"  Well,  my  son,"  said  Jim's  mother,  who  believed 
profoundly  in  her  offspring,  "  just  paint  her  and  see 
what  comes  of  it." 

While  Jim  Lascelles  lay  that  night  with  his  head 
on  his  arm,  dreaming  of  the  Goose  Girl,  high  revel 
was  held  at  the  house  of  Caroline  Crewkerne,  in  Hill 
Street,  W.  All  ages  and  both  sexes  were  gathered  in 
the  garb  of  their  ancestors  in  the  spacious  suite  of 
rooms  on  the  second  floor.  From  the  moment  that 
the  first  seductive  strains  were  put  forth  by  Herr 
Blaum's  Green  Viennese  Band,  and  his  Excellency  the 
Illyrian  Ambassador,  in  the  guise  of  Henri  Quatre 
or  the  Duke  of  Buckingham — nobody  was  quite  sure 
which — accompanied  by  Diana  of  Ephesus,  a  bread- 
and-butter  miss  who  looked  much  too  young  to  be  a 
duchess,  Avent  up  the  carpetless  blue  drawing-room, 
which  seemed  at  least  three  times  the  size  it  did  on 
ordinary  occasions,  as  indeed  was  the  case,  there  was 


HIGH  REVEL  IN  HILL  STREET        163 

no  doubt  that  Caroline  Crewkerne  was  going  to  have 
a  great  success. 

It  is  not  easy  to  know  whether  Red  Cross  Knights, 
Cardinal  Richelieus,  Catherines  de'  ]Medici,  and  those 
kinds  of  people  are  susceptible  of  thrills ;  but  there 
was  one  unmistakably  when  George  Betterton,  in  the 
character  of  a  Gentleman  of  the  Georgian  Era,  took 
the  floor  with  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  by  Gains- 
borough, upon  his  arm. 

The  less  responsible  spirits  directed  their  gaze  to 
Charles  II.  The  Merry  Monarch  was  engaged  in 
amiable  converse  with  his  hostess,  who,  habited  in  an 
Indian  shawl,  the  gift  of  her  Sovereign,  and  a  jeweled 
turban  presented  to  her  by  the  Shah  of  Persia  dur- 
ing his  last  visit  to  this  country,  together  with  the 
insignia  of  the  Spotted  Parrot  duly  displayed  round 
her  neck,  made  her,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  a  very 
tolerable  representation  of  a  heathen  deity.  As  a 
Gentleman  of  the  Georgian  Era  and  Araminta, 
Duchess  of  Dorset,  by  Gainsborough,  came  down  the 
room  in  a  somewhat  inharmonious  manner,  owing  to 
the  decidedly  original  ideas  of  the  former  in  regard 
to  the  art  he  was  practicing,  the  amiable  and  agree- 
ably cultivated  voice  of  Charles  II.  soared  easily 
above  the  strains  of  the  waltz  and  the  frou-frou  of 
the  dancers. 

"  Yes,"  said  that  monarch,  "  the  Georgian  Era  is 
sufficiently  obvious  ;  but  can  anybody  tell  me  what  has 
happened  to  the  Gentleman  ?  " 

The  Georgian  Era  went  its  victorious  way  how- 
ever, gobbling  decidedly,  perspiring  freely,  holding 


164  ARAMINTA 

Gainsborough's  Duchess  in  a  grip  of  iron,  and  slowly 
but  surely  trampling  down  all  opposition  with  the 
greatest  determination.  When,  with  coxcomb  en- 
sanguined, but  with  a  solemn  gobble  of  triumph,  he 
came  back  whence  he  started,  a  slight  but  w^ell-de- 
fined  murmur  of  applause  was  to  be  heard  on  every 
hand. 

"  Georgian  Era  wins  in  a  canter,"  one  of  the  know- 
ing fraternity  could  be  heard  to  proclaim.  "  Evens 
on  Gobo  against  the  field." 

"  Duchess,"  said  the  Georgian  Era,  with  a  bow  to 
his  fair  partner,  who  looked  as  cool  as  a  cucumber, 
"  you  deserve  an  ice." 

"  Yes,"  said  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dorset,  with 
grave  alacrity,  "  a  pink  one,  please." 

"  Bad  form,"  said  the  Second  Charles ;  "  decidedly 
a  breach  of  manners  to  address  her  as  duchess  in  the 
circumstances.  But  what  can  one  expect  of  the 
Georgian  Era !  " 

The  Merry  Monarch,  with  the  unmistakable  air  of 
the  master  of  the  ceremonies,  as  indeed  he  was,  pro- 
ceeded to  lead  out  Katharine  of  Aragon,  who  was 
seen  to  great  advantage,  such  was  her  natural  dis- 
tinction, and  who  was  that  ill-fated  queen  to  the  man- 
ner born. 

"  Humph !  "  said  the  Heathen  Deity.  "  For  a  born 
fool  she  dances  very  well." 

The  Second  Charles  danced  like  a  rather  elderly 
angel  with  wings. 

The  young  people  also  were  enjoying  themselves. 
Eligible  yoimg  men,  and  not  a  single  one  of  the  other 


HIGH  REVEL  IN   HILL  STREET         165 

kind  had  gained  admittance,  had  each  his  dance  with 
the  fair  Araminta,  or  the  fair  Daphne,  or  the  fair 
Evadne,  or  the  fair  Sweet  Nell  of  Old  Drury.  Of 
course  Gainsborough's  masterpiece  really  brooked  no 
rival,  except  the  great  canvas  in  the  left-hand  comer, 
which,  in  the  full  glare  of  the  electric  hghts,  seemed 
to  do  her  best  to  dispute  the  supremacy  of  her  youth- 
ful descendant. 

"  Yellow  hair  knocks  spots  off  the  auburn,"  said 
an  Eldest  Son  to  the  Lynx-Eyed  Dowager  to  whose 
apron  he  was  very  carefully  tied. 

"  A  matter  of  taste,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  Yellow 
is  never  a  safe  color.  It  is  well  known  that  it  means 
doubtful  antecedents.  They  are  beginning  the  lan- 
cers.    Go,  Pet,  and  find  Mary." 

Pet,  who  was  six  feet  five,  and  had  leave  from 
Knightsbridge  Barracks  until  five  a.m.,  claimed  the 
Watteau  Shepherdess,  a  real  Httle  piece  of  Dresden 
China,  who  had  forty-six  thousand  in  land  and 
thirty-six  thousand  in  consols,  and  would  have  more 
when  Uncle  William  permanently  retired  from  the 
Cavalry ;  and  who  was  perfectly  wilHng  to  marry  Pet 
or  any  one  else  if  her  mamma  only  gave  her  permis- 
sion to  do  so. 

Charles  II.  sat  out  the  supper  dance  with  the  fair 
Araminta. 

"  Miss  Goose,"  said  the  sagacious  monarch, 
"  never  dance  the  dance  before  supper  if  you  can 
possibly  avoid  it.  You  will  live  longer,  you  will  be 
able  to  do  ampler  justice  to  whatever  fare  may  be 
forthcoming,  you  will  also  be  able  to  get  in  before  the 


166  ARAMINTA 

squash ;  and  if  the  quails  run  sliort,  as  is  sometimes 
the  case,  it  won't  matter  so  much  as  it  otherwise 
might  do." 

As  far  as  the  Merry  Monarch  was  concerned, 
however,  the  precautions  against  the  squash  and  the 
possibihty  of  the  quails  running  short  were  wholly 
superfluous.  The  pleasantest  corner  of  the  best- 
situated  table  had  been  reserved  for  him  hours  be- 
fore, and  all  his  favorite  delicacies  had  been  duly  ear- 
marked. 

"  Miss  Goose,"  said  the  Merry  Monarch,  "  have 
you  had  an  ice  yet?  " 

"  I  have  had  seven,''  said  Araminta,  Duchess  of 
Dorset. 

"  Pink  ones?  "  asked  the  Second  Charles. 

"  Five  were  pink,"  said  the  Duchess,  "  one  was 
yellow,  and  one  was  green.  But  I  think  that  'piiik 
ones  are  almost  the  nicest." 

"  I  concur,"  said  the  Second  Charles. 

After  supper,  before  dancing  was  resumed,  some 
incautious  person,  after  gazing  upon  Gainsborough's 
masterpiece  and  subjecting  it  to  some  admiring  if 
unlearned  remarks,  pulled  aside  the  crimson  curtain 
which  hid  from  view  Jim  Lascelles'  half-finished 
copy. 

"  Oho !  "  said  the  incautious  one  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  what  have  we  here?  To  be  sure,  a  Sargent  in  the 
making !     Only  Sargent  could  paint  that  hair." 

The  attention  of  others  was  attracted. 

"  I  should  say  it  is  a  Whistler,"  said  a  second 
critic. 


HIGH  REVEL  I^   HILL  STREET         167 

"  A  Sargent  decidedly,"  said  a  third.  "  Only  he 
could  paint  that  hair." 

"  It  is  high  art,  I  dare  say,"  said  a  fourth,  "  but 
isn't  it  rather  extravagant?  " 

"  If  Gillet  were  in  London,"  said  critic  the  fifth, 
who  had  more  instruction  than  all  the  others  put  to- 
gether, "  I  should  say  it  was  Gillet.  As  he  is  not, 
it  might  be  described  as  the  work  of  a  not  unskillful 
disciple." 

Cheriton  stood  listening. 

"  It  is  the  work  of  a  young  chap  named  Lascelles," 
said  he ;  "  the  coming  man,  I'm  told." 

Nobody  had  told  Cheriton  that  Jim  Lascelles  was 
the  coming  man,  and  not  for  a  moment  did  he  be- 
lieve that  he  was ;  but  he  was  a  member  of  that  use- 
ful and  considerable  body  which  derives  a  kind  of 
factitious  importance  from  the  making  of  imposing 
statements.  He  felt  that  it  reacted  upon  his  own 
status  to  announce  that  a  young  chap  named  Las- 
celles was  the  coming  man  when  not  a  soul  had  heard 
of  the  young  chap  in  question. 

"  I  must  remember  the  name,"  said  a  broad-jowled 
marquis  from  Yorkshire,  who  had  come  up  in  time 
to  hear  Cheriton's  statement,  and  who  greatly  pre- 
ferred to  accept  the  judgment  of  others  in  the  fine 
arts  rather  than  exercise  his  own.  "  I  should  like  him 
to  paint  Priscilla." 

"  The  very  man  to  paint  Priscilla,"  said  Cheriton, 
with  conviction.  And  this,  be  it  written  to  Cheriton's 
credit,  was  genuine  good  nature. 

"  What  is  the  subject.'*  "  said  the  first  critic. 


168  ARAMINTA 

"Why,  can't  you  see?"  said  a  chorus.  "It  is 
Carohne  Crewkerne's  Gainsborough." 

"Which  of 'em?" 

"  The  yellow-haired  one,  of  course." 

Cheriton  screwed  his  glass  in  his  eye.  He  had  been 
the  first  to  detect  that  the  color  of  the  hair  was 
yellow,  and  yet  for  some  strange  reason  the  solution 
of  the  mystery  had  not  until  that  moment  presented 
itself  to  him. 

"  What  damned  impertinence !  "  said  he. 

"  Anybody  been  treading  on  your  corns,  Cher- 
iton?"  asked  several  persons. 

"  Not  exactly.  But,  do  you  know,  I  commis- 
sioned that  fellow  Lascelles  to  make  a  copy  of  Ara- 
minta.  Duchess  of  Dorset,  for  Cheriton  House." 

"  And  he  copies  the  wrong  Araminta !  "  came  a 
shout  of  laughter.  There  was  really  no  need  to 
shout,  but  immediately  after  supper  that  is  the  sort 
of  thing  that  happens  sometimes.  "  A  good  judge 
too." 

"  Gross  impertinence.  I  think  I  shall  be  quite 
justified  in  repudiating  the  whole  transaction." 

"  Quite,  Cheriton,"  said  the  marquis,  with  a  very 
obvious  wink  at  the  company  and  preparing  to  jest 
in  the  somewhat  formidable  Yorkshire  manner.  "  But 
it  is  easily  explained.  Young  fellow  got  a  little  mixed 
between  Gainsborough's  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Dor- 
set, and  Nature's  Araminta,  Duchess  of  Brancaster. 
Very  natural  mistake — what?  " 

The  arrival  upon  the  scene  of  the  Georgian  Era 
and    the    Heathen    Deity,    the   latter    walking   quite 


HIGH  REVEL  IN  HILL  STREET         169 

nimbly  with  very  little  aid  from  her  stick,  set  the 
circle  of  art  critics  in  further  uproar. 

"  Who  pulled  aside  the  curtain  ?  "  demanded 
the  mistress  of  the  house.  "  Cheriton,  I  suspect 
you." 

"  It  is  my  picture,  anyhow,"  said  Cheriton,  coolly, 
although  he  felt  the  game  was  rather  going  against 
him. 

"  It  is  not  ?.t  all  clear  to  my  mind  that  it  is  your 
picture,"  said  the  sharp-witted  Carohne,  to  the  de- 
hght  of  everybody.  "  You  send  a  man  to  copy  my 
Gainsborough,  and  he  copies  my  niece." 

"  A  very  natural  error,"  said  the  marquis,  "  as  we 
have  just  explained  to  Cheriton." 

The  Georgian  Era  was  seen  to  grow  uneasy.  He 
began  to  fumble  in  his  Georgian  costume.  Obviously 
he  was  not  quite  sure  where  the  pockets  were.  At 
last,  however,  he  was  able  to  produce  a  pair  of  spec- 
tacles which  he  proceeded  to  adjust. 

"  Very  good  Hkeness,"  said  he,  heavily.  "  Caroline, 
when  the  picture  is  finished  I  should  like  to  purchase 
it  for  the  Cheadle  Collection." 

A  salvo  of  laughter  greeted  this  speech,  but  to 
laughter  the  speaker  was  constitutionally  oblivious. 

"  The  picture  is  not  Caroline's,  my  dear  George," 
said  Cheriton.  "  The  young  fellow  is  painting  it  on 
my  commission." 

"  Excellent  likeness,"  said  George,  tenaciously.  "  I 
shall  make  you  a  fair  offer,  Cheriton,  for  the  Cheadle 
Collection." 

"  I  am  sorry,  my  dear  George,  for  the  sake  of  the 


170  ARAMINTA 

Cheadle  Collection,"  said  Cheriton,  amiably ;  "  but 
that  picture  is  not  for  sale." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline 
Crewkerne ;  "  the  picture  is  not  for  sale.  I  gave  per- 
mission for  a  copy  to  be  made  of  my  Gainsborough, 
not  of  my  niece." 

"  It  appears  to  be  a  question  of  copyright,"  said 
a  wit. 

"  I  hold  the  copyright  in  both  at  present,"  said 
Caroline,  in  an  exceedingly  grim  manner. 

The  strains  of  the  dance  began  to  float  through 
the  room.  The  younger  section  of  the  company  had 
again  taken  their  partners ;  a  brace  of  royalties  had 
arrived,  yet  in  spite  of  that  jest  and  counter-jest 
were  in  the  air. 

^'  Cheriton  was  never  in  it  from  the  start,"  said 
the  marquis,  "  if  you  want  my  candid  opinion." 

"  The  luckier  he,"  said  the  first  critic.  "  What 
does  any  man  want  with  a  girl  who  hasn't  a  sou,  a 
country  parson's  daughter  .^^  " 

"  Healthy,  I  should  say,"  said  critic  the  second. 
"  Comes  of  a  good  stock  on  the  mother's  side." 

"  Ye-es,"  said  a  third.     "  Useful." 

"  Finest-looking  girl  in  England,"  said  a  fourth. 

"  They  can  both  afford  to  marry  her,"  said  the 
marquis,  "  and  I  will  lay  the  odds  that  the  better 
man  of  the  two  does." 

"  Cheriton  gets  her  in  that  event." 

"  Gobo  for  a  monkey." 

All  the  time,  however,  in  Another  Place,  the  Mas- 
ter of  the  Revels — but,  after  all,  that  is  no  concern 
of  ours. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

UNGENTLEMANLIKE    BEHAVIOR    OF    JIM    LASCELLES 

JIM  LASCELLES  continued  his  labors.  He  ar- 
rived at  Hill  Street  each  morning  at  ten,  and 
worked  with  diligence  until  two  p.m.  Urged  b}^  the 
forces  within  him,  and  sustained  by  the  injudicious 
counsel  of  his  mother,  he  devoted  his  powers  to  the 
yellow  hair,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  by  the  terms  of 
his  commission  it  was  his  duty  to  copy  the  auburn. 

About  three  days  after  the  dance  he  was  inter- 
rupted one  morning  by  Lord  Cheriton.  Jim  was  feel- 
ing rather  depressed.  For  one  thing  his  conscience 
smote  him.  He  had  dehberately  risked  the  loss  of  a 
sum  of  money  w^hich  he  could  not  afford  to  lose ;  and 
further,  it  was  most  likely  that  he  was  about  to  offer 
an  affront  to  his  only  patron.  The  more  work  he  put 
into  the  picture,  the  more  marked  became  the  differ- 
ence between  it  and  the  original.  Again,  and  this 
perhaps  was  an  equally  solid  reason  for  his  depres- 
sion, this  morning  the  Goose  Girl  had  forsaken  him. 
She  had  gone  for  a  ride  in  the  park  with  her  duke. 

Doubtless  Cheriton  was  sharing  Jim's  depression. 
At  least,  when  he  entered  the  drawing-room  to  inspect 
the  labors  of  his  protege,  a  countenance  which,  as  a 
general  rule,  made  a  point  of  exhibiting  a  scrupulous 
amiabihty,  was  clouded  over. 

171 


172  ARAMINTA 

Cheriton's  scrutiny  of  Jim's  labors  was  long  and 
particular. 

"  I  invite  jou  to  be  frank  with  me,  Lascelles," 
said  he.  "  Is  this  a  copy  of  the  Dorsetj  or  is  it  a 
portrait  of  a  living  person.'*" 

By  nature  Jim  was  a  simple  and  ingenuous  fellow. 
But  really  his  present  predicament  was  so  awkward 
that  he  did  not  know  what  reply  to  make. 

"  Some  of  it  is  Gainsborough,"  said  Jim,  lamely, 
"  and  some  of  it,  I  am  afraid,  is  nature." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  dear  Lascelles,"  said 
Cheriton,  judicially,  "  that  I  cannot  accept  that 
as  an  adequate  answer  to  a  straightforward 
question." 

"  No,  it  is  not  a  very  good  answer,"  Jim  agreed. 

Suddenly  his  jaw  dropped  and  he  burst  into  a 
queer  laugh. 

"  The  fact  is.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim,  "  I  am  in 
a  hole." 

Cheriton  regarded  Jim  in  a  highly  critical  manner. 

"  Yes,  Lascelles,"  said  he,  slowly.  "  I  think  you 
are." 

"  A  hole,"  Jim  repeated  with  additional  emphasis, 
as  if  he  desired  to  gain  confidence  from  a  frank  state- 
ment of  his  trouble. 

Jim's  odd  face  seemed  to  appeal  for  a  little 
sympathy,  but  not  a  suggestion  of  it  was  forth- 
coming. 

"What  can  a  fellow  do.?"  said  Jim,  desperately. 
"  She  will  come  and  sit  here  on  that  sofa  in  a  better 
light  than  the  duchess.    The  sun  of  the  morning  will 


BEHAVIOR  OF  J^M  LASCELLES         173 

shine  upon  her ;  and  when  Nature  comes  to  handle 
pink  and  white  and  blue  and  yellow  she  has  a  greater 
magic  than  ever  Gainsborough  had." 

Cheriton  shook  his  head  with  magisterial  solem- 
nity. 

*'  Lascelles,"  said  he,  "  you  have  a  very  weak  case. 
And  I  feel  bound  to  say  that  the  manner  in  which 
you  present  it  does  not,  in  my  opinion,  make  it 
stronger." 

"  I  expect  not,"  said  Jim,  ruefully.  "  But  dash  it 
all,  what  is  a  fellow  to  do  if  she  will  come  and  sit  on 
that  sofa  and  pose  like  Romney's  Emma  ?  " 

"  His  duty  is  absolutely  clear  to  my  mind,  and  I 
think  it  is  simple.  He  should  order  the  intruder  out 
of  the  room." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know,"  said  Jim,  "  that  is  what  a  really 
strong  chap  would  do."  Jim  gave  a  groan.  "  I 
know  that  is  what  a  Velasquez  or  a  Rembrandt  would 
have  done.  And  he  would  have  cursed  her  like  fury 
for  sitting  there  at  all." 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  said  the  mellifluous  Cheriton. 
"  Rembrandt  especially.  In  my  opinion,  Rembrandt 
would  have  shaken  his  fist  at  her." 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  being  a  mediocrity,"  said 
Jim,  gloomily.  "  It  takes  a  chap  with  enormous  char- 
acter to  do  these  things." 

"  I  am  afraid,  Lascelles,  the  plea  of  mediocrity 
will  do  nothing  for  you.  If  anything,  it  weakens 
your  case.  Personally,  if  I  were  advising  you  I 
should  say  either  put  in  a  plea  of  consummate  genius 
or  do  not  put  in  a  plea  at  all." 


174  ARAMINTA 

"  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  believe  that  I'm  a 
genius,"  said  Jim,  with  excellent  frankness. 

"  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  believe  you  are  either," 
said  Cheriton,  with  a  frankness  that  was  equally  ex- 
cellent. "  And  therefore,  examining  your  conduct 
with  all  the  leniency  the  circumstances  will  permit,  I 
am  unable  to  find  any  palliation  for  it.  I  fear  my 
old  friend  Lady  Crewkerne  is  much  annoyed — for- 
give my  plainness,  Lascelles,  but  I  feel  it  to  be  neces- 
sary— by  your  intrepidity  in  copying  her  niece  in- 
stead of  her  Gainsborough;  and  I,  as  an  old  friend 
of  the  house,  feel  bound  to  share  her  disapproval." 

"  Rub  it  in.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim. 

He  stuck  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  began  to 
whistle  softly  with  an  air  of  supreme  discomfiture. 

"  Yes,  Lascelles,  I  intend  to  do  so.  In  fact,  I  find 
it  difficult  to  say  all  that  I  should  like  to  do  upon 
the  subject,  without  actually  saying  more  than  one 
who  was  at  school  with  your  father  would  feel  it  de- 
sirable to  say  to  a  young  man  who  has  his  own  way 
to  make  in  the  world." 

"  Say  just  as  much  as  you  like,"  said  Jim.  "  I 
know  I  have  made  an  ass  of  myself.  And  of  course  I 
haven't  a  leg  to  stand  on,  really.  And  I  expect  the 
old  cat  will  have  me  on  the  carpet  too." 

Cheriton  dropped  his  eyeglass  with  an  air  of  digni- 
fied agitation. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lascelles,"  said  he.  "  To 
whom  do  you  refer.''  " 

"  To  that  damned  old  woman !  "  said  Jim  Lascelles, 
with  an  unabashed  air. 


BEHAVIOR  OF  J^M  LASCELLES         175 

"  Can  it  be  possible  that  you  refer  to  Caroline 
Crewkerne,  my  oldest  friend?  " 

"  I  mean  the  aunt  of  Nature's  immortal  work," 
said  Jim,  coolly.  "  I  really  can't  help  it ;  I  feel  that 
I  must  curse  somebody  this  morning.  And  as  she  is 
bound  to  curse  me,  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  curse 
her." 

"  Your  habit  of  explanation,  Lascelles,  is  decidedly 
unfortunate." 

"  Well,  tell  me  the  worst.  Lord  Cheriton.  I  sup- 
pose you  withdraw  your  offer ;  and  I  am  to  be  bundled 
out  neck  and  crop  with  my  canvas  and  forbidden  to 
come  here  again.?  " 

"  I  certainly  withdraw  my  offer.  In  regard  to 
prohibition  of  the  house  that,  of  course,  rests  entirely 
with  my  old  friend,  of  whom  you  have  spoken  in  a 
singularly  disrespectful — and  shall  I  say  ungentle- 
manlike  ? — manner." 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Jim,  humbly.  "  It  has 
done  me  good  to  say  it.  But,  of  course,  I'm  in  the 
wrong  altogether." 

"  You  are,  undoubtedly.  To  my  mind,  you  are 
more  in  the  wrong  than  one  could  have  judged  pos- 
sible for  a  young  man  of  your  character,  upbring- 
ing, and  attainments  to  be." 

"  If  a  confounded  girl,"  said  Jim,  "  will  make  a 
practice  of  coming  into  this  room  continually  to  ask 
you  what  your  opinion  is  of  her  hat  and  her  frock, 
and  whether  you  have  ever  tasted  cream  buns  and 
pink  ices,  and  w^hether  you  think  Muffin's  mauve  was 
as  nice  as  her  lilac  is " 


176  ARAMINTA 

*'  My  dear  Lascelles,"  interrupted  Cheriton,  "  your 
habit  of  explanation  is  really  most  unfortunate." 

"  Well,  kick  me  out  and  my  canvas  too,"  said  Jim, 
desperately,  "  and  have  done  with  it." 

Jim  Lascelles,  like  the  rash  and  hasty  fellow  that 
he  was,  feeling  himself  to  be  irretrievably  disgraced 
and  that  he  had  forfeited  forever  the  respect  and 
good-will  of  his  only  patron,  proceeded  to  pack  up 
his  brushes  and  his  pigments. 

"  The  former  part  of  your  suggestion,  Lascelles, 
is  much  the  simpler  matter  of  the  two.  But  in  the 
matter  of  the  half -finished  canvas  I  foresee  difficulty." 

"  You  have  repudiated  it,  haven't  you.?  "  said  Jim, 
rather  fiercely. 

"  Unquestionably  as  a  copy  of  the  Dorset.  But  all 
the  same,  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  permitted  to  leave 
this  house." 

"  Why  not.  Lord  Cheriton.?  " 

"  It  is  an  unauthorized  portrait  of  my  ward,  Miss 
Perry,  who  at  present  is  in  statu  pupillari." 

"  Ye-es,"  said  Jim,  dubiously,  "  I  suppose  it  is. 
All  the  same,  it  is  rather  rough  on  a  chap.  I  have 
put  a  lot  of  work  into  that  picture." 

"  I  can  see  you  have,  Lascelles." 

"  And  of  course,"  said  Jim,  injudiciously,  "  I 
should  like  to  put  a  lot  more  work  into  it.  It  is  such 
a  fine  subject." 

"  The  subject  is  much  too  fine,  Lascelles,  if  I  may 
venture  an  opinion.  My  advice  to  3^ou  is,  burn  the 
canvas  and  forget  that  it  ever  existed." 

No  pity  was  taken  on  Jim's  blank  consternation. 


BEHAVIOR  OF  JIM  LASCELLES         177 

"  Burn  it !  "  cried  Jim,  aghast. 

"  I  am  afraid  if  you  don't,  my  dear  Lascelles, 
Lady  Crewkerne  will." 

"  But  she  has  no  right "  said  Jim,  fiercely. 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  fellow,  her  right  is  not  to 
be  contested.  In  my  view,  this  half-finished  canvas 
is  much  more  her  property  than  it  is  yours." 

"  Well,"  said  Jim,  apprehensively,  "  I  shall  re- 
move it  at  once  to  my  studio." 

Cheriton  had  dropped  his  little  bombshell.  The 
gyrations  of  his  vicitim,  whom  he  had  fully  alarmed, 
seemed  to  afford  him  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 

"  Let  us  take  it  a  little  easier,  my  dear  fellow," 
said  he.  "  I  agree  with  you  that  it  would  be  a  great 
pity  to  destroy  such  an  extremely  promising  work  of 
art.     Let  us  seek  for  an  alternative." 

"  The  only  alternative  I  can  see,"  said  Jim,  "  is 
that  I  should  remove  it  at  once." 

"  In  its  half -finished  state  .'^  That  would  be  a 
pity." 

"  Well,  I  don't  mean  it  to  be  burnt  if  I  can  help 
it,"  said  Jim. 

During  the  pause  which  followed  Jim  looked  highly 
perplexed,  not  a  little  disconcerted,  and  also  some- 
what belligerent. 

"  I  have  a  suggestion  to  make  to  you,  Lascelles," 
said  his  patron.  "  In  the  circumstances  I  think  it  is 
quite  the  most  you  can  hope  for." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  consider  it.  Lord  Cheriton," 
said  Jim,  with  a  rueful  smile. 

"  In  the  first  place,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  best 


178  ARAMINTA 

thing  I  can  do  is  to  get  the  permission  of  Lady  Crevr- 
kerne  for  you  to  finish  the  portrait  of  her  niece. 
Now,  I  warn  you  it  may  not  be  easy.  As  I  think 
you  have  conjectured,  she  is  a  difficult  member  of  a 
most  difficult  sex.  But  I  am  only  prepared  to  do  this 
upon  one  definite  condition." 

"  What  is  it  "^  "  asked  Jim,  in  a  tone  that  was  not 
very  hopeful. 

"  The  condition  must  be  this,  Lascelles,"  said  Cher- 
iton,  with  a  very  businesslike  air.  "  As  you  have 
treated  me  so  abominably — I  regret  exceedingly  that 
candor  compels  me  to  use  the  term — if  I  obtain  per- 
mission for  you  to  complete  your  portrait  of  Miss 
Perry,  I  shall  insist  upon  being  allowed  to  purchase 
it  upon  my  own  terms." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim,  "  that  is  only  fair." 

It  seemed  to  him  that  things  were  taking  a  much 
more  favorable  course  than  he  could  have  hoped  for. 

"  If  I  can  obtain  permission  for  you,  Lascelles,  to 
complete  that  picture,  and  you  finish  it  in  the  man- 
ner you  have  begun  it,  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to  hang 
it  at  Cheriton  House." 

Jim  Lascelles  was  touched  by  the  kindness  of  his 
patron. 

"  I  didn't  quite  see  my  way.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said 
he,  with  admirable  simplicity,  "  to  offer  you  an  apol- 
ogy for  my  rotten  behavior,  because  you  know  you 
did  rub  it  in,  but  I  am  going  to  now.  And  I  hope 
you'll  accept  it,  because  you've  been  so  kind  to  me — 
much  kinder  to  me  than  you  ought  to  have  been, 
really." 


BEHAVIOR  OF  jm  LASCELLES         179 

"  Yes,  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  impartially,  "  I 
am  inclined  to  take  that  view  myself.  But  your 
father  was  good  to  me  at  school ;  and  you  are  young, 
and  you  have  talent,  and  you  have  a  great  subject  to 
work  upon,  and  I  can't  help  feeling  that  it  would  be 
a  pity  if  you  lost  the  opportunity  which,  in  a  sense, 
you  have  already  had  the  wit  to  create.  Mind,  Las- 
celles, I  don't  excuse  you  in  the  least.  I  palliate  noth- 
ing; take  your  conduct  all  round  it  has  been  abom- 
inable; but  in  my  humble  judgment,  had  it  been  more 
correct  than  it  has  been  I  personally  should  not  take 
such  a  hopeful  view  of  your  future.  For  you  have 
conformed  to  my  fundamental  belief  that  all  the  men 
who  are  worth  anything  must  begin  by  breaking  the 
rules.  Although  have  the  goodness  to  remember,  my 
dear  Lascelles,  when  jo\i  come  to  breaking  the  rules 
be  careful  how  you  do  it,  for  it  is  very  easy  to  get  ex- 
pelled the  school.  And  should  that  happen — well,  of 
course,  you  are  done  for  unless  you  are  able  to  found 
a  school  of  your  own." 

Jim  Lascelles  forbore  to  smile  at  this  piece  of 
didacticism.  He  was  very  full  of  gratitude.  The 
old  blighter  had  behaved  so  much  more  nicely  than 
he  need  have  done. 

"  If  only  I  had  genius,"  said  Jim,  "  I  would  give 
up  my  days  to  the  fashioning  of  the  most  absolute 
masterpiece  that  ever  adorned  the  walls  of  Cheriton 
House." 

"You  remember  Carlyle's  definition .?  "  said  the 
owner  thereof. 

"  Carlyle  was  an  old  fool." 


180  ARAMINTA 

"  That  was  always  my  opinion.  And  I  once  had 
the  privilege  of  telling  him  so,  and,  what  is  more, 
the  noisy  fellow  admitted  it.  Doubtless  what  he 
meant  to  express  by  his  definition  was  the  fact  that 
Genius  is  perfect  submission  to  the  Idea." 

"  Well,  here  goes  for  perfect  submission  to  the 
Idea,"  said  Jim  Lascelles. 

He  took  up  his  brush  and  his  palette,  and  gave  a 
very  deft  touch  to  the  vestments  of  Miss  Perry. 

"  Do  you  like  my  new  riding-habit  ?  "  said  a  per- 
fectly ludicrous  drawl  coming  in  through  the  door. 

Jim  Lascelles  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  He  kept 
his  back  turned  upon  the  new  riding-habit  resolutely. 

"  Dear  me !  "   said  Cheriton,  "  Artemis." 

"  Isn't  it  silly.?  "  said  Miss  Perry.  "  They  don't 
like  you  to  jump  the  railings  in  Rotten  Row." 

"What  is  the  source  of  your  information.'^"  in- 
quired my  lord. 

"  Gobo  says  so,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Put  not  your  faith  in  that  man,  my  dear  Miss 
Goose,"  said  Cheriton,  mellifluously.  "  It  is  only  be- 
cause he  is  afraid  of  taking  a  toss." 

"  But  they  have  got  po-lice-men,''*  said  Miss  Perry, 
impressively. 

There  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that  in  her  new 
riding-habit  Miss  Perry  looked  perfectly  distract- 
ing. Lord  Cheriton  was  certainly  of  that  opinion. 
As  for  Jim  Lascelles,  he  waved  her  away  from  him 
with  great  energy. 

"  That  is  the  sort  of  thing,"  said  he,  with  an  ap- 
peal for  sympathy  and  protection. 


BEHAVIOR  OF  JIM  LASCELLES         181 

"  Miss  Goose,"  said  Lord  Cheriton,  "  Mr.  Lascelles 
has  made  a  serious  indictment  against  you." 

"  Has  he?  "  said  Miss  Perry,  opening  very  large, 
very  round,  and  very  blue  eyes  upon  Jim. 

"  Mr.  Lascelles  complains,"  said  Cheriton,  with 
paternal  severity,  "  that  while  he  is  assiduously  en- 
gaged in  copying  that  famous  portrait  of  your  great- 
grandmamma,  you  persist  in  coming  into  this  room 
in  your  smartest  gowns ;  in  sitting  in  the  middle  of 
that  sofa ;  in  absorbing  the  best  light ;  in  posing  in  a 
manner  that  no  really  sensitive  painter  can  possibly 
resist;  with  the  melancholy  result  that  you  literally 
force  liim  to  paint  you  instead  of  your  great-grand- 
mamma, quite,  as  he  assures  me,  against  his  rational 
judgment  and  his  natural  inclination." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  at  all,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with 
charming  friendliness.  "  It  made  me  rather  tired  at 
first  holding  my  chin  like  this,  but  at  the  end  of  an 
hour  I  always  get  a  cream  bun." 

"  At  the  end  of  an  hour  you  always  get  a  cream 
bun !    Do  you  indeed  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  small  ones,  but  they  are 
almost  as  nice  as  the  large  ones." 

"  I  hope,  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  "  you  have 
something  to  offer  by  way  of  extenuation.'^  " 

"  Well,  what  can  a  fellow  do.?  "  said  Jim,  desper- 
ately. "  What  with  the  sun  stuck  up  there,  and  this 
pink  and  white  and  blue  and  yellow  arrangement. 
As  for  the  chin — well,  if  a  chin  will  curve  like  that  it 
must  take  the  consequences." 

Cheriton  was  shocked. 


182  ARAMINTA 

"  Say  as  little  as  possible,  Lascelles,  I  entreat  you," 
said  he.  "  Your  case  is  hopeless.  But  I  feel  bound 
to  say  this.  Since  we  have  had  this  astounding  alle- 
gation of  the  cream  buns,  without  probing  the  mat- 
ter to  the  depths,  which  I  am  really  afraid  to  do,  I 
must  say  your  future  as  a  painter  seems  more  roseate 
than  ever." 

"  Thank  you.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim,  mod- 
estly. 

"  But  in  regard  to  your  future  as  a  human  being, 
as  a  unit  of  society,  I  prefer  to  exercise  a  wise  dis- 
cretion which  will  take  the  form  of  saying  nothing 
whatever  upon  the  subject." 

"  Thank  you.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim  again. 

Jim  Lascelles  then  turned  his  gaze  upon  Miss 
Perry.  It  was  of  such  singular  resolution  that  it 
seemed  as  if  it  sought  to  hypnotize  that  irresponsible 
person  to  maintain  the  semblance  of  discretion. 

"  If  you  will  go  and  put  on  that  new  frock,"  said 
he,  in  a  manner  that  Cheriton  was  forced  to  regard 
as  effrontery,  "  we  can  get  just  an  hour  before  lunch- 
eon, and  then  to-morrow  you  will  start  a  cream  bun 
in  hand." 

The  prospect  offered  seemed  sufficiently  enticing  to 
Miss  Perry. 

"  That  will  be  awfully  nice." 

She  left  the  room  with  great  cheerfulness. 

Cheriton  regarded  Jim  Lascelles  with  that  paternal 
air  which  he  was  wont  to  assume  rather  frequently 
towards  the  world  in  general. 

"  Lascelles,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  have  to  revise  my 


BEHAVIOR  OF  JIM  LASCELLES         183 

estimate  of  your  attainments.  It  is  becoming  in- 
creasingly clear  to  my  mind  that  you  may  go 
far." 

"  Gillet  said  if  I  applied  myself,"  said  Jim,  with- 
out immodesty,  "  I  might  be  able  one  day  to  paint  a 
portrait." 

"  Gillet's  opinion  is  valuable,"  said  Cheriton,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  set  a  higher  value  upon  his  own 
opinion  than  he  did  upon  that  of  Gillet.  He  exam- 
ined Jim's  work  very  critically.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I 
recognize  your  possibilities.  You  have  had  the  wit 
to  find  a  subject,  and  I  am  hopeful  that  the  artist 
will  prove  entirely  worthy  of  it." 

Jim's  face  expressed  his  pleasure.  After  all,  he 
had  the  talent  and  ambition  of  every  honest  crafts- 
man. 

"  Lascelles,"  said  his  patron,  "  may  I  give  you  a 
word  of  advice?  " 

Jim  expressed  himself  gratified  at  the  prospect  of 
receiving  it. 

"  It  is  this,"  said  Cheriton,  slowly.  "  You  must 
get  into  the  habit  of  charging  more  for  your  pic- 
tures." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to,"  said  Jim.  "  But  times 
are  hard,  and  it  is  uphill  work  for  a  man  without  a 
reputation." 

"  I  appreciate  that.  But  I  heard  you  spoken  of  as 
the  coming  man  the  other  night,  and  I  see  no  reason 
why  you  shouldn't  confirm  the  prediction." 

"  If  only  I  had  a  Httle  more  talent,"  said  Jim. 

"  If  only  you  had  a  little  more  faith  in  it,  Lascelles. 


184  ARAMINTA 

It  is  the  faith  that  is  so  necessary,  as  every  artist 
tells  us." 

"  I  suppose  so.  Yet  all  the  same,  I  wish  the  fairies 
had  been  a  little  kinder." 

"  I  am  of  opinion  that  they  have  been  sufficiently 
kind  to  the  man  who  could  pose  that  head  and  put 
that  hair  upon  canvas.  But  what  I  wanted  particu- 
larly to  say  to  you  is  this.  My  friend  Kendal  intends 
to  ask  you  to  paint  a  portrait  of  his  daughter 
Priscilla." 

Jim  Lascelles  was  thrilled  by  this  announcement. 

"  That  is  awfully  good  of  him,"  said  he,  "  and 
awfully  good  of  you.  Lord  Cheriton." 

"  Perhaps  I  have  the  more  genuine  title  to  your 
gratitude,"  said  Cheriton,  amiably,  "  because,  as  far 
as  Kendal  is  concerned,  he  is  one  of  those  undiscern- 
ing  and  sluggish  fellows  who  always  prefer  to  take 
some  one  else's  opinion  rather  than  form  one  of  their 
own.  I  told  him  you  were  the  man  to  paint  his 
daughter  Priscilla,  and  he  was  only  too  glad  to  have 
my  word  for  it.  And  I  am  by  no  means  sure  you  are 
not." 

Jim  Lascelles  was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  express 
his  sense  of  obligation,  particularly  as  he  could  not 
help  feeling  that  he  did  not  merit  such  kindness. 

"  I  wish  now,"  said  he,  "  I  hadn't  behaved  so 
badly." 

"  The  worst  of  any  sort  of  bad  behavior,"  said 
Cheriton,  sententiously,  "  is  that  it  carries  such  a 
heavy  premium.  But  no  matter.  The  chief  thing  is 
to    behave    well    to   my    friend   Kendal.      Paint    his 


BEHAVIOR  OF  JIM  LASCELLES         185 

daughter  Priscilla  to  the  best  of  your  ability,  and  be 
careful  to  charge  him  five  hundred  guineas." 

Jim  was  staggered. 

"  Five  hundred  guineas !  "  said  he.  "  Why,  he  will 
never  pay  it.  He  could  get  an  absolute  first  rater 
for  that  sum." 

Cheriton  smiled  sagaciously. 

"  Doubtless  he  could,"  said  he,  "  and  if  my  friend 
Kendal  pays  five  hundred  guineas  he  will  consider  he's 
got  one.  When  I  come  to  examine  your  masterpiece 
on  the  wall  of  his  gloomy  and  draughty  dining-room 
in  Yorkshire,  I  shall  say,  '  Kendal,  that  picture  of 
Priscilla  appears  to  be  an  uncommonly  sound  piece 
of  work.'  And  he  will  say  as  proud  as  you  please,  '  I 
should  think  it  was,  my  dear  fellow.  That  young 
chap  Lascelles  turned  out  absolutely  first  rate.  He 
charged  five  hundred  guineas  for  that  picture.  I  am 
telling  everybody.'  " 

Jim  Lascelles  found  his  good  fortune  a  little  diffi- 
cult to  accept.  Further,  he  seemed  to  be  rather 
troubled  by  it. 

"  I  hope  it  is  quite  fair  to  Lord  Kendal,"  he  said, 
"  to  charge  him  five  hundred  guineas  for  a  picture 
I  should  be  only  too  glad  to  paint  for  fifty  ?  " 

Cheriton  was  amused. 

"  My  dear  Lascelles,"  said  he,  "  simplicity  is 
greatly  to  be  desired  in  art,  but  it  is  well  not  to  take 
it  into  the  market-place.  There  is  the  man  with 
whom  you  are  doing  business  to  be  considered.  If  my 
friend  Kendal  paid  fifty  guineas  for  the  picture  of 
his  daughter  Priscilla,  he  would  tliink  exactly  ten 


186  ARAMINTA 

times  less  of  it  than  if  he  paid  five  hundred ;  and  in- 
stead of  hanging  it  in  his  dining-room  in  the  worst 
possible  light,  he  would  hang  it  in  one  of  the  smaller 
bedrooms  in  a  very  much  better  one." 

Cheriton's  homily  was  interrupted  at  this  point  by 
the  return  of  Miss  Perry.  In  her  Gainsborough 
gown  which  she  had  worn  at  the  fancy  ball,  and  in 
her  "  incredible  "  hat,  which  by  some  miracle  had  been 
clapped  on  at  just  the  right  angle,  she  looked  more 
distracting  than  any  human  creature  ought  really  to 
do.  She  seated  herself  in  the  middle  of  the  sofa  with 
great  composure,  tilted  her  chin  to  the  light  of  the 
morning,  and  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap  with  almost 
the  air  of  a  professional. 

"  Out  for  blood,"  said  Jim,  approvingly. 

"  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  "  I  am  almost  afraid 
this  means  a  large  one." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim,  "  I  am  a  poor  and  obscure 
painter,  but  this  zeal  to  serve  the  arts  really  merits 
encouragement." 

"  Perhaps,  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  "  if  Buszard 
is  sincerely  interested  in  art,  as  one  feels  sure  he 
must  be,  he  might  be  induced  to  make  a  reduc- 
tion upon  the  large  ones  if  you  contracted  for  a 
quantity." 

Jim  Lascelles  was  frankly  delighted  with  the  pose, 
and  worked  very  happily.  He  was  in  high  spirits. 
Thanks  to  his  patron's  generosity,  he  had  got  out  of 
his  difficulty  far  more  easily  than  he  could  have  hoped 
to  have  done.  His  future  prospects  had  also  taken  a 
sudden  and  remarkable  turn    for    the  better.     Yet, 


BEHAVIOR  OF  JJM  LASCELLES         187 

apart  from  these  considerations,  his  subject  fired  him. 
As  he  worked  during  this  precious  hour  he  felt  that 
his  execution  had  never  had  such  boldness,  freedom, 
and  authenticity. 

Cheriton  watched  his  protege  with  approval.  As 
a  critic  he  was  sufficiently  accomplished  to  detect 
great  possibilities  in  Jim's  method.  Here  might  be  a 
genuine  trouvaille,  if  the  young  fellow  only  had 
thoroughness  as  well  as  courage. 

Miss  Perry  had  not  moved  her  chin  once  for  nearly 
an  hour,  so  that  she  felt  her  guerdon  was  as  good  as 
earned ;  Jim  Lascelles  had  yielded  for  the  same  period 
to  a  genuine  inspiration ;  and  Cheriton  sat  at  his  ease, 
watching  with  every  outward  sign  of  satisfaction  the 
fair  fruits  which  were  springing  from  his  liberal 
treatment  of  the  artistic  temper,  when  this  harmony 
of  sitter,  painter,  and  patron  was  gravely  imperiled 
by  the  entrance  of  a  little  fat  dog.  As  usual,  he 
heralded  the  approach  of  an  old  woman  leaning  upon 
an  ebony  stick. 

No  sooner  had  the  old  woman  entered  the  blue 
drawing-room  than  she  stood  dumfounded  with 
amazement.  And  yet  there  is  reason  to  believe  that 
this  attitude  was  in  some  measure  assumed.  Jim  Las- 
celles continued  to  ply  his  brush  in  blissful  ignorance 
of  her  presence;  Miss  Perry,  for  political  reasons, 
continued  strictly  to  maintain  her  pose.  Cheriton, 
however,  put  up  a  solemn  forefinger.  Nevertheless, 
signs  were  not  wanting  that  the  mistress  of  the  house 
was  about  to  disregard  his  warning. 

"  Ssssh,  CaroHne !  "  said  he. 


188  ARAMINTA 

"  What,  pray,  is  the  meaning  of  this?  "  demanded 
the  old  lady. 

"  This  is  a  most  critical  stage,"  said  Cheriton. 
"  Three  minutes  more  and  I  shall  invite  you  to  speak 
with  freedom." 

"  Tell  me,"  snorted  the  old  lady.  "  Why  is  that 
girl  sitting  there  in  that  manner  in  the  gewgaws  of 
a  play-actress  .f^  " 

"  Sssh,  Caroline !    Don't  you  see?  " 

The  perfect  composure  of  the  fair  sitter,  and  the 
fact  that  she  chose  to  remain  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind 
to  the  intruder,  seemed  to  exasperate  that  autocrat. 

"Tell  me,  girl,  what  is  the  meaning  of  it?"  she 
stormed. 

She  beat  the  carpet  with  the  ebony  walking- 
stick. 

"  Move  not  the  Chin  Piece,  the  Young  Man  said," 
Jim  whispered. 

The  filmy,  far-away  look  continued  in  the  eyes  of 
Miss  Perry.     She  paid  heed  to  none. 

Cheriton  continued  to  elevate  his  forefinger  very 
gravely. 

"  Sssh,  Caroline !  "  said  he.  "  One  short  and  brief 
minute  more.     The  whole  situation  is  most  critical." 

"  Is  the  creature  hypnotized?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  undoubtedly." 

"  Who  gave  permission  for  her  to  sit  for  her  por- 
trait?    In  those  fal-lals,  too." 

"  Nature  gave  her  permission,  amiable  old  Dame 
Nature.     She  couldn't  refuse  it." 

"  I  forbid  it,"  said  Caroline,  with  all  the  energy 


BEHAVIOR  OF  jni  LASCELLES         189 

of  which  she  was  capable.  "  It  is  disgraceful.  It 
shall  not  go  on." 

Then  it  was  that  Miss  Perry  ventured  to  say 
something. 

"  Large  cream  bun  to-morrow  morning,  please," 
said  she. 

"  Is  it  an  hour  ?  "  said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  Dear  me ! 
how  time  flies !    One  can  hardly  believe  it." 

"  Girl,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  I  demand  an  explana- 
tion." 

As  Miss  Perry  seemed  to  have  no  explanation  to 
offer,  Cheriton  came  to  her  aid. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  he,  in  honeyed  tones,  "  my 
distinguished  young  friend  Lascelles  is  the  victim  of 
a  very  natural  error.  My  idea  was,  of  course,  Caro- 
line, as  you  are  aware,  that  he  should  come  here  to 
copy  your  Gainsborough,  but  it  would  appear  that 
he  has  put  another  interpretation  upon  his  mandate. 
And  I  feel  bound  to  confess  that  I  for  one  cannot 
blame  him." 

Caroline  Crewkerne,  however,  was  not  appeased  so 
easily. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  said  she,  "  it  is  unpardonable 
that  any  man  should  take  it  upon  himself  to  paint 
clandestinely  the  portrait  of  my  niece.  And  in  my 
house,  too." 

Jim  held  himself  very  proudly  and  perhaps  a  little 
disdainfully  also.  The  old  woman's  tone  was  certainly 
offensive. 

"  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  he,  not  so  humbly  as  he 
might  have  done,  "  I  will  admit  that  I  have  done 


190  ARAMINTA 

wrong,  but  I  hope  my  offense  is  not  a  very  grave 
one." 

The  old  lady  looked  Jim  over  in  a  decidedly  scorn- 
ful manner.  She  appeared  to  be  not  quite  sure 
whether  a  person  such  as  Jim  was  entitled  to  receive 
a  reply  from  her. 

"  It  depends  upon  the  light  in  which  one  chooses 
to  view  the  subject,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  which 
trembled  with  anger.  "  I  have  formed  my  own  opin- 
ion about  such  behavior.  I  must  ask  you  to  leave  this 
house  immediately,  and  in  future  it  will  be  closed  to 
you." 

Jim  was  stung.  The  mildest-tempered  fellow  in 
the  world  would  have  been  by  such  an  unbridled  dis- 
play of  despotism.  Cheriton,  who  by  long  associa- 
tion with  the  Whigs  understood  their  arbitrary  na- 
ture, was  really  less  shocked  by  such  an  uncivil  ex- 
hibition than  he  pretended  to  be.  He  took  Jim  Las- 
celles  by  the  sleeve,  drew  him  aside,  and  gave  him 
the  benefit  of  a  whimsical  smile. 

"  Say  nothing,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  in  a  sa- 
gacious and  paternal  manner.  "  Give  her  her  head, 
and  then  leave  her  to  me." 

Jim  Lascelles,  however,  was  furious.  He  was 
young  and  hot-headed ;  and  adversity  had  rendered 
him  more  sensitive  upon  the  score  of  his  dignity  than 
it  is  wise  for  a  young  fellow  to  be.  Therefore  he  was 
by  no  means  disposed  to  leave  the  adjustment  of  the 
matter  to  his  friend.  Not  by  his  demeanor  only  did 
he  express  resentment,  but  by  word  and  also  by 
deed. 


BEHAVIOR  OF  J^M  LASCELLES         191 

"  I  am  sorry,  Lady  Crewkerne,  you  have  taken 
this  view,"  said  he,  not  very  pacifically.  "  I  shall  be 
quite  happy  to  obey  your  instructions.  A  couple  of 
men  will  come  from  Peabody's  this  afternoon  to  fetch 
the  canvas." 

And  then,  with  an  incredible  absence  of  judgment, 
Jim  Lascelles  packed  up  his  tools,  and  distributing 
curt  bows  to  everybody,  stalked  out  of  the  room  and 
out  of  the  house. 

Cheriton  showed  genuine  consternation.  Miss 
Perry  looked  ready  to  shed  tears.  Cream  buns  apart, 
she  was  very  fond  of  Jim. 

"  An  incomprehensibly  foolish  thing  to  have  done," 
said  Cheriton. 

"  A  deplorable  exhibition  of  impudence,"  said 
Caroline  Crewkerne.  "  I  have  the  greatest  mind  not 
to  give  up  that  canvas.  I  should  be  within  my  rights 
if  I  destroyed  it." 

"  I  have  grave  doubts  whether  vou  could  do  it 
legally,"  said  Cheriton. 

For  a  man  of  his  vaunted  wisdom  and  experience 
it  was  a  sadly  injudicious  thing  to  have  said. 

"  You  think  so  ?  "  said  the  redoubtable  Caroline. 
"  That  decides  me.  That  man  must  be  taught  a 
lesson.  Cheriton,  have  the  goodness  to  ring  the 
bell." 

Cheriton  showed  genuine  concern. 

"  Surely,  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  you  cannot  mean 
that  you  are  going  to  destroy  it.''  " 

"  That  is  my  intention." 

"  Oh,  but  surely,"  said    Cheriton,  "  it    would    be 


192  ARAMINTA 

nothing  short  of  a  crime.  There  is  no  other  word 
to  use." 

"  It  is  going  to  be  done,"  said  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne. 

"  But  the  young  fellow  has  put  many  hours  of  ^e 
work  into  that  picture,"  said  Cheriton,  with  gr^at 
seriousness,  "  and  fine  thought  in  it  too.  It  would  be 
a  crime."  ^ 

"  If  a  man  has  no  manners  he  must  be  taught 
them,"  said  the  implacable  Caroline. 

"  The  kettle  is  invariably  the  severest  judge  of  the 
pot,"  said  Cheriton,  in  a  whimsical  aside.  "  Really, 
Caroline,  you  began  it,"  said  he. 

"  The  man  began  it  by  painting  my  niece's  por- 
trait without  obtaining  my  permission.  Not  content 
with  abusing  my  hospitality,  he  must  show  insolence 
when  remonstrated  with." 

"  Well,  you  know,  my  dear  Caroline,  that  hand  of 
yours  is  uncommonly  heavy.  And  although  no  one 
deplores  the  young  fellow's  conduct  for  his  own  sake 
more  deeply  than  I  do,  he  acted  precisely  as  his  pro- 
foundly rash  and  hot-headed  father  would  have  done 
in  the  circumstances." 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  interested  in  such  a  person, 
or  in  his  father  either,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne. 
"  But  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  that  canvas  shall 
be  destroyed." 


CHAPTER  XV 

DIPLOMACY    IS    CALLED    FOR 

CHERITON'S  gravity  was  of  a  kind  he  seldom 
displayed. 

"  Caroline,"  said  he,  firmly,  "  if  you  behaved  in 
that  way  no  right-minded  person  could  possibly  for- 
give you.  The  lad  is  very  poor,  and  his  history  is  a 
sad  one.  He  is  the  son  of  Lascelles,  V.C.,  as  rash 
yet  generous-hearted  a  fellow  as  ever  lived.  Had  it 
not  been  for  a  dishonest  broker  the  young  chap  would 
be  a  man  of  wealth  and  position." 

"  I  am  prepared  to  hear  nothing  further  upon  the 
subject,"  said  Caroline  Crewkeme.  "  I  have  made 
up  my  mind.  Cheriton,  have  the  goodness  to  ring 
the  bell." 

The  affair  must  have  had  a  tragic  termination 
there  and  then  had  not  the  God  who  watches  over 
poor  painters — whatever  their  own  private  and  per- 
sonal doubts  in  regard  to  that  Deity,  it  is  only  right 
for  laymen  like  ourselves  to  assume  that  there  is  one 
— seen  fit  to  enact  a  Httle  providence  of  His  own.  At 
that  crucial  moment  there  came  to  Cheriton's  aid  no 
less  a  person  that  George  Betterton.  And  as  if  that 
opportune  arrival  was  not  in  itself  sufficient,  Provi- 
dence took  the  trouble  to  play  a  double  coup.     Mr. 

193 


194  ARAMINTA 

Marchbanks  made  the  announcement  almost  imme- 
diately afterwards  that  luncheon  was  ready. 

While  Caroline  enlarged  upon  her  grievances  to 
George  Betterton  and  outlined  the  extreme  course 
she  proposed  to  take  as  soon  as  luncheon  was  over, 
Cheriton  scribbled  hastily  in  pencil  on  the  back  of  a 
card,  "  Remove  picture  from  No.  —  Hill  Street  im- 
mediately, to  the  Acacias,  Hawthorn  Road,  Balham." 

This  accomplished,  he  proceeded  to  take  John  into 
his  confidence.  He  placed  the  card,  together  with  a 
sovereign,  in  the  palm  of  that  functionary. 

"  Go  down  at  once,"  said  he,  "  to  the  people  at  the 
Bond  Street  Galleries  and  give  them  this  card.  They 
are  to  remove  that  half -finished  picture  in  the  blue 
drawing-room  to  that  address.  By  the  time  luncheon 
is  over  it  must  be  out  of  the  house.     Is  that  clear  .^^  " 

"  Perfectly  clear,  my  lord,"  said  John,  who  among 
his  many  virtues  had  a  proper  tenderness  for  the 
peerage. 

"  See  that  this  is  done,  and  when  questions  are 
asked  all  you  need  know  upon  the  subject  is  that  a 
couple  of  men  came  and  took  it  away.  You  under- 
stand.? " 

"  Perfectly,  my  lord,"  said  John. 

During  luncheon  Cheriton  was  seen  to  particular 
advantage.  At  any  time  it  called  for  very  little 
effort  on  his  part  for  him  to  be  one  of  the  most  agree- 
able men  in  London.  To-day  he  excelled.  He  retailed 
some  of  the  newest  stories  and  a  quantity  of  the  fresh- 
est gossip ;  he  was  really  genial  to  George  Betterton, 
and  encouraged  him  to  enlarge  at  length  upon  the 


DIPLOMACY  I£  CALLED  FOR  195 

subject  of  the  Militia;  and  to  his  hostess  he  gave  a 
tip  for  the  Oaks,  for  which  species  of  information 
she  had  a  decided  weakness. 

It  was  but  seldom  among  his  intimates  that  George 
was  permitted  to  mount  his  hobby-horse.  As  for 
Cheriton,  he  was  the  last  man  in  the  world,  as  a  rulcj 
to  consent  to  hold  the  head  of  that  extraordinary 
quadruped  while  George  established  himself  firmly  in 
the  saddle.  But  on  this  occasion  he  performed  that 
operation  in  the  most  graceful  manner. 

"  Excellent  speech  of  yours  in  the  House  the  other 
evening,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  he.  "  I  wasn't  there 
myself — Philosophical  Society's  annual  meeting — ^but 
you  were  very  carefully  reported  in  the  Times.  Quite 
your  best  vein,  if  I  may  say  so.  Very  shrewd,  very 
searching,  sound  common  sense.  You  thought  so, 
Caroline,  did  you  not  ?  " 

It  seems  incredible,  but  Caroline  Crewkerne  walked 
straight  into  the  trap.  With  all  her  ruthlessness, 
and  all  her  knowledge  of  mundane  affairs,  she  had 
one  besetting  weakness.  She  attached  an  absurd  im- 
portance to  any  form  of  politics.  It  was  her  Whig- 
gism,  doubtless.  She  would  encourage  the  most  con- 
summate bore,  for  upon  the  slightest  pretext  her 
vanity  would  lead  her  to  believe  that  her  fingers  v/ere 
really  in  the  pie,  and  that  she  had  a  very  considerable 
hand  in  the  destinies  of  the  country. 

In  the  heydey  of  her  glory  it  used  to  be  asserted 
freely  by  idle  persons  that  if  the  country  was  not 
actually  ruled  from  Llill  Street,  ministers  at  least 
were  made  and  marred  there,  and  of  that  quarter  Gov- 


196  ARAMINTA 

ernments  went  in  fear  and  trembling.  And  it  is  by 
no  means  improbable  that  Caroline  Crewkerne  came 
to  believe  it.  It  is  surprising  what  vanity  will  do 
for  us. 

To-day  the  smoldering  embers  of  a  life-long  illu- 
sion, if  the  figure  is  permitted,  allowed  Caroline 
Crewkerne  to  establish  George  Betterton  quite  firmly 
astride  his  hobby-horse.  Cheriton  counted  the  min- 
utes of  his  exquisite  boredom.  George  was  always 
heavy.  He  spoke  so  slowly  and  impressively  that  he 
could  deliver  a  platitude  in  a  longer  space  of  time 
than  any  man  living,  and  he  could  use  fewer  words  in 
the  operation.  Indeed,  upon  the  strength  of  that 
gift  he  had  gained  a  reputation  for  incisive  brevity. 

To  see  Caroline  Crewkerne  nodding  her  vain  old 
head,  and  wagging  her  vain  old  ears  in  an  exagger- 
ated attitude  of  statesmanlike  attention,  was  a  posi- 
tive joy  to  Cheriton,  particularly  as  time  was  so 
valuable.  The  minutes  grew  tedious  in  their  passing, 
all  the  same.  The  clock  chimed  half-past  two,  and 
Miss  Perry  mentioned  the  circus. 

"  Let  us  postpone  it  until  to-morrow,  my  dear 
Miss  Goose,  if  you  really  don't  mind,"  said  Cheriton. 
"  The  conversation  is  so  absorbing.  The  preserved 
ginger  is  highly  delectable  too." 

Miss  Perry  shared  the  latter  opinion. 

"  Green  Chartreuse  or  Grand  Marnier,  my  lord.?  " 
said  Mr.  Marchbanks. 

"  Both,"  said  my  lord. 

Mr.  Marchbanks  dissembled  his  surprise  in  an  ex- 
tremely well-bred  manner.     In  his  eyes,  however,  a 


DIPLOMACY  IS  CALLED  FOR  197 

peer  of  the  realm  was  in  the  happy  position  of 
Caesar's  wife. 

It  must  not  be  assumed,  however,  that  Cheriton 
indulged  in  both  these  luxuries.  His  respect  for  the 
internal  economy  forbade  that  course.  But  observ- 
ing that  George  Betterton  selected  Green  Chartreuse 
he  contrived  to  smuggle  unseen  the  Grand  Marnier  to 
George's  side  of  the  table.  He  then  addressed  his 
mind  to  slumber.  After  a  full  twenty  minutes  thus 
blissfully  stolen  he  awoke  with  a  little  start. 

"  Beg  pardon,  George,"  said  he.  "  Did  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  the  Militia  had  gone  to  the  dooce 
and  the  country  must  be  reconstructed,  or  that  the 
Country  had  gone  to  the  dooce  and  the  Militia  must 
be  reconstructed?  " 

"  The  Country,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne,  in  her  most  affaire  manner ;  "  certainly  the 
Country." 

"  What  a  good  head  you  have,  Caroline !  "  said 
Cheriton,  giving  expression  to  a  somnolent  admira- 
tion. "  Take  after  your  father.  Sorry  to  interrupt 
you,  George.  Most  able  discourse.  By  the  way, 
Caroline,  you  never  give  one  the  treat  of  the  famous 
old  brandy  these  days.  Not  for  myself.  I  never 
touch  brandy ;  but  I  was  thinking  of  George.  It  is 
known  to  be  excellent  for  any  kind  of  disquisition." 

George  Betterton,  duly  fortified  with  a  little  of 
the  famous  old  brandy,  and  with  a  yet  further  sup- 
ply of  Grand  Marnier,  which  Cheriton  caused  to  be 
conveyed  to  him,  proceeded  on  his  victorious  way. 

"  Country  gone  to  the  dogs — yes,"  said  Cheriton. 


198  ARAMINTA 

"  Militia  gone  to  the  dooce — quite  so.  Circus  to- 
morrow, Miss  Goose.  But  Gobo  quite  educational 
too." 

Cheriton  addressed  himself  again  to  slumber,  with 
a  peaceful,  resigned,  yet  vastly  contented  air. 

It  was  five  minutes  past  three  before  Caroline 
Crewkerne  quitted  the  table.  In  spite  of  her  fund  of 
natural  shrewdness  she  could  not  help  feeling — so 
easy  it  is  for  the  wisest  people  to  deceive  themselves 
in  some  things — that  she  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  a 
political  Gamaliel  who  played  ducks  and  drakes  with 
the  War  Office.  As  for  George  Betterton,  having 
been  endured  with  a  patience  that  was  not  always  ex- 
tended to  him,  without  actually  giving  himself  airs, 
he  felt  that  upon  the  subject  of  the  Militia  he  really 
w^as  no  end  of  a  fellow.  Cheriton,  who  had  enjoyed 
an  additional  tliirty-five  minutes  of  undisturbed  re- 
pose, gave  him  clearly  to  understand  that  he  con- 
curred in  that  opinion. 

Back  in  the  drawing-room,  Caroline  Crewkerne  re- 
affirmed her  intention  of  destroying  the  half -finished 
portrait  of  Miss  Perry. 

"  An  unpardonable  piece  of  presumption  in  the 
first  place,"  said  she.  "  And,  in  the  second,  the  man 
was  positively  insolent." 

Cheriton  had  already  looked  for  the  canvas,  and 
with  a  whimsical  little  sigh  of  satisfaction  had  looked 
in  vain.  It  would  seem  that  the  myrmidons  of  the 
Bond  Street  Galleries  had  done  their  work. 

"  Do  be  more  lenient,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said 
Cheriton,  persuasively.     "  The  fellow  is  young,  and 


DIPLOMACY  IS  CALLED  FOR  199 

his  lot  is  hard.  Pray  don't  take  the  bread  out  of  the 
mouth  of  a  rising  genius  who  has  to  support  his 
mother.  George,  my  dear  fellow,  throw  the  weight 
of  your  great  influence  into  the  scale.  Caroline  must 
be  more  humane.  Rising  young  man — highly  sus- 
ceptible— wholly  captivated  by  our  distracting  Miss 
Goose.  Any  young  fellow  with  any  sort  of  instinct 
for  nature  at  her  choicest  would  have  done  the  same." 

Cheriton  concluded  upon  an  exclamation  from  the 
redoubtable  Caroline. 

"  Why,"  she  cried,  "  the  picture  has  been  taken 
away !  " 

Mr.  Marchbanks  was  summoned. 

"  Two  men  from  Peabody's  fetched  it  an  hour  ago, 
my  lady,"  Mr.  Marchbanks  explained. 

"  Without  my  permission,"  stormed  his  mistress. 

"  I  had  no  instructions,  my  lady,"  said  Mr.  March- 
banks.  "  I  was  under  the  impression  that  it  was  the 
property  of  the  young  painting  gentleman." 

"  You  were  under  the  impression !  " 

"  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton  gravely,  "  if  you  have 
not  been  properly  scored  off"  it  looks  uncommonly  like 
it.  Young  fellow  evidently  didn't  allow  the  grass  to 
grow  under  his  feet.  He  said  he  would  send  for  it 
to-morrow,  but  he  seems  to  have  changed  his  mind. 
But,  in  my  humble  judgment,  if  you  must  blame  any- 
body you  will  do  well  to  blame  George.  If  he  hadn't 
been  so  devilish  interesting  on  the  subject  of  the 
Militia  it  would  never  have  happened." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

HYDE    PARK 

LITTLE  recked  Jim  Lascelles  of  the  train  of  cir- 
I  cumstances  which  enabled  his  precious  half- 
finished  work  to  return  to  its  maker.  When  it  ar- 
rived at  his  hermitage  at  Balham  that  afternoon,  he 
merely  saw  in  its  premature  return  an  additional  af- 
front. He  took  it  for  granted  that  the  old  woman 
of  Hill  Street  had  ordered  it  out  of  the  house. 

"  An  absolutely  inconceivable  old  cat,"  Jim  as- 
sured his  mother  with  great  truculence. 

"  I  am  afraid  so,  my  son,"  said  his  mother,  sagely. 
"  Power  is  so  bad  for  poor  Female  Us." 

"  She  has  ruined  me,"  said  Jim,  miserably.  "  She 
and  that  infernal  temper  of  mine." 

"  Temper  is  feminine  too,  my  son,"  said  Jim's 
mother,  profoundly.  "  She  invariably  plays  Old 
Harry  when  she  gets  hold  of  the  reins." 

Perhaps  it  ought  to  be  stated  that  Jim's  mother 
had  recently  tried  to  eke  out  her  slender  purse  by 
writing  a  novel.  At  least,  that  is  the  only  explana- 
tion there  is  to  offer  of  how  she  came  to  be  so  wise. 
The  writing  of  novels  is  very  good  for  the  mind,  as 
all  the  world  knows. 

Jim  was  woefully  gloomy  for  many  days.  He  felt 
200 


HYDE  PARK  201 

that  by  his  unlucky  outburst  he  had  irretrievably 
ruined  his  prospects.  And  they  were  getting  bright 
so  suddenly  that  they  had  almost  seemed  to  dazzle 
him.  Not  only  had  he  forfeited  the  hundred  pounds 
which  Lord  Cheriton  had  promised  him  for  a  faithful 
copy  of  the  Gainsborough,  but  doubtless,  after  his 
unhappy  exhibition  of  temper,  Lord  Kendal's  daugh- 
ter Priscilla  would  choose  to  be  painted  by  somebody 
else. 

This,  however,  was  not  the  worst.  The  Goose  Girl 
had  passed  clean  out  of  his  ken.  Henceforward  he 
would  be  debarred  the  sight  of  the  Gainsborough  hat, 
the  Hlac  frock,  and  the  full-fledged  cream-bun  ap- 
pearance. She  had  driven  the  unfortunate  young 
fellow  so  nearly  to  distraction  that  while  he  found  it 
impossible  to  expel  her  from  his  thoughts,  he  could 
not  summon  the  resolution  to  unlock  the  door  of  the 
studio  he  had  caused  to  be  set  up  in  the  small  Balham 
back  garden.  It  was  nothing  less  than  an  affliction 
to  gaze  upon  the  half -finished  canvas,  which  now  could 
never  be  completed. 

By  nature  Jim  Lascelles  was  a  bright  and  cheery 
soul.  But  the  fact  that  he  had  destroyed  his  pros- 
pects "  just  as  things  were  coming  his  way  "  by  a 
single  unbridled  act,  made  him  extremely  unhappy. 
It  needed  all  Mrs.  Lascelles'  gay  courage  and  invinci- 
ble optimism  to  keep  Jim  steady  during  these  days 
of  trial. 

"  Finish  her  out  of  your  head,  laddie,"  said  she, 
"  then  try  to  forget  that  she  ever  existed." 

"  Nay,"  said  Jim.     "  I  must  either  put  all  I  know 


202  ARAMINTA 

into  that  little  work,  or  stick  a  knife  through  the 
canvas." 

Jim  brooded  dreadfully  upon  the  subject.  Black 
rings  came  under  his  eyes;  he  smoked  too  much  and 
ate  too  little. 

"  I  must  and  I  will  see  her,"  said  Jim. 

"  That  is  the  true  spirit,  my  son,"  said  his  mother, 
cheerfully. 

It  is  not  quite  clear  whether  she  ought  openly  to 
have  expressed  her  approval.  It  was  very  necessary, 
all  the  same,  to  rouse  the  unhappy  Jim  from  the 
lethargy  that  was  making  his  life  unbearable.  At  all 
events,  he  seemed  to  derive  a  certain  inward  power 
from  the  mere  resolution. 

The  next  morning  Jim  made  his  way  to  Hyde 
Park.  It  was  now  June  and  it  was  looking  its  best, 
with  the  trees,  the  rhododendrons,  and  the  ladies  in 
full  bloom.  For  some  time  he  stood  by  the  railings 
with  a  kind  of  indefinite  hope  that  he  would  be  re- 
warded for  his  pilgrimage.  Then  he  began  to  walk 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  Knightsbridge ;  and  con- 
fronted by  so  much  fine  plumage,  he  began  to  wish 
ruefully  that  his  blue  suit  was  not  so  shabby  and 
that  his  straw  hat  was  not  in  its  second  season. 

He  was  still  hopeful,  however.  He  took  a  careful 
survey  of  the  riders.  Somewhat  oddly,  his  attention 
was  attracted  to  a  heavy,  red-faced,  rather  stupid- 
looking  man  who  was  pounding  along  on  a  gray 
horse.  His  appearance  was  perfectly  familiar  to  Jim 
Lascelles,  yet  for  the  moment  he  could  not  remember 
where  and  when  he  had  seen  him. 


HYDE  FARE  203 

It  was  with  an  odd  mingling  of  satisfaction  and 
disgust  that  he  whs  able  to  recall  the  heavy  red- 
faced  man's  identity.  He  stopped  and  turned  his 
eyes  to  follow  him  in  his  progress.  Yes,  it  was  he 
undoubtedly.  And  there  at  the  corner  by  Apsley 
House  was  a  chestnut  horse,  tall,  upstanding,  proudly 
magnificent,  surmounted  by  a  royal  creature  crowned 
with  the  light  of  the  morning.  At  the  respectful  dis- 
tance of  thirty  paces  was  Mr.  Bryant,  seated  as  up- 
right as  his  own  cockade  upon  a  more  modest  charger. 
Even  he,  a  man  of  austere  taste  and  exclusive  in- 
stinct, did  not  attempt  to  conceal  an  air  of  legitimate 
pride  in  his  company.  Mr.  Bryant  had  seen  nothing 
that  morning,  nor  many  mornings  previously,  that 
could  in  any  wise  compare  with  the  wonderful  Miss 
Perry. 

Doubtless  it  is  hardly  right  to  say  that  Jim  Las- 
celles'  eyes  were  envious  when  they  followed  the  man 
with  the  red  face,  and  marked  his  paternal  greeting 
of  the  Goose  Girl.  It  is  hardly  fair,  for  envy  Is  a 
vulgar  passion,  and  Jim  was  too  good  a  fellow  ever 
to  be  really  vulgar  In  anything.  All  the  same,  It 
must  be  confessed  that  he  swore  to  himself  softly. 
He  then  behaved  In  a  very  practical  and  mundane 
manner.  He  took  out  his  watch,  one  of  those  ad- 
mirable American  five-shllHng  watches  which  are 
guaranteed  to  keep  correct  time  for  a  very  long 
period. 

"  Three  minutes  past  eleven,"  said  he.  "  Oho,  my 
merry  man !  " 

Precisely  what  Jim  Lascelles  meant  by  that  mystic 


204.  ARAMINTA 

exclamation  it  is  difficult  to  know,  but  anyhow  it 
seemed  to  please  him.  He  then  observed  that  the 
little  cavalcade  had  wheeled  round  the  corner,  and 
had  started  to  come  down  slowly  by  the  raiUngs  upon 
the  left. 

Jim  stood  to  await  it  with  a  beating  heart.  It  was 
a  most  injudicious  thing  to  do,  but  he  was  in  a  des- 
perate and  defiant  humor. 

"  Five  to  one  she  cuts  you,"  Jim  muttered.  "  Two 
to  one  she  cuts  you  dead.  They  are  all  ahke  when 
they  mount  the  high  horse." 

As  Jim  Lascelles  stood  to  await  the  approach  of 
the  cavalcade,  he  no  longer  thought  ruefully  of  his 
cheap  straw  hat  and  his  shabby  blue  suit.  They  had 
become  dear  to  him  as  the  badge  of  his  impending 
martyrdom. 

Gobo  hugged  the  railings.  He  was  so  close  to  Jim 
Lascelles  that  he  nearly  touched  him  with  his  spurs — 
dummy  spurs,  as  Jim  noted.  Miss  Perry  was  ex- 
plaining that  all  the  girls  had  white  frocks  at  Buck- 
ingham Palace,  and  how  she  wished  that  Muffin  had 
been  there,  as  a  white  frock  always  suited  her,  al- 
though she  was  inclined  to  tear  it,  when  Miss  Feather- 
brain was  met  by  the  steady  and  unflinching  gaze  of 
Jim  Lascelles.  Instantly  her  hand  went  up,  not  one 
of  darned  cotton,  but  a  yellow  gauntleted  affair  that 
matched  her  hair,  in  quite  the  regulation  Widdiford 
manner. 

"Why  —  why,"  she  cried,  "it's  Jim!  Hallo, 
Jim!" 

In  the  ears  of  Jim  Lascelles  the  incomparably  fool- 


HYDE  ?ARK  205 

ish  speech  had  never  sounded  so  absurd  and  so  de- 
licious. It  was  plainly  the  intention  of  Miss  Perry 
to  hold  animated  conversation  with  the  undeniably 
handsome  youth  who  returned  her  greeting.  But  the 
intervention  of  the  highest  branch  of  the  peerage,  as 
solemn  as  the  British  Constitution  and  as  solid  too, 
between  her  and  the  railings ;  and  the  fact  that  there 
was  a  resolutely  oncoming  rearguard  in  the  person 
of  the  scandalized  Mr.  Bryant,  who  in  his  own  mind 
was  tolerably  sure  that  the  presumptuous  young  man 
by  the  railings  had  no  connection  with  the  peerage 
whatever,  sufficed  to  keep  Miss  Perry  in  the  straight 
path. 

Therefore  Jim  Lascelles  had  to  be  content  with  one 
of  the  old  Widdiford  smiles,  which  nevertheless  was 
enchanting,  and  a  parting  wave  of  the  yellow  gaunt- 
let, which  was  the  perfection  of  friendliness,  com- 
radeship, and  natural  simplicity.  He  stood  to  watch 
the  cavalcade  pass  slowly  down  the  ride,  the  magnifi- 
cent chestnut  and  its  rider  the  observed  of  all  ob- 
servers, for  both  were  superb  and  profoundly  simple 
works  of  nature.  The  red-faced  and  stolid  personage 
on  the  gray,  a  more  sophisticated  pair,  were  yet  well 
in  the  picture  also,  for  if  less  resplendent,  they  too  in 
their  way  were  imposing. 

Jim's  reverie  was  interrupted  by  a  voice  at  his 
elbow. 

"  There  they  go,"  it  said,  "  the  most  ill-assorted 
pair  in  England." 

With  a  start  of  surprise  Jim  turned  to  find  an 
immaculate  beside   him.      Cheriton   was   wearing   a 


206  ARAMINTA 

light  gray  frockcoat  with  an  exaggerated  air  of 
fashion. 

"  Crabbed  age  and  youth,"  said  Jim,  yet  quite 
without  bitterness.  He  was  still  glowing  with  pleas- 
ure at  his  frank  and  friendly  recognition. 

"  A  pitiful  sight,"  said  Cheriton.  "  A  man  of  his 
age !  How  odd  it  is  that  some  men  are  born  without 
a  sense  of  the  incongruous !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim. 

"  Gal  looks  well  outside  a  horse.  Very  well  indeed. 
Pity  that  old  ruffian  should  ruin  so  fair  a  picture." 

Cheriton  seemed  prepared  to  criticise  his  rival's 
style  of  horsemanship.  Reluctantly,  however,  he 
forbore  to  do  so.  For  George  had  been  drilled  very 
severely  in  his  youth ;  and  in  spite  of  his  years  and  his 
weight  he  was  able  to  make  a  creditable  appearance 
in  the  saddle. 

"  Do  you  know,  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim,  "  I  al- 
most regret  that  I  did  not  attempt  an  equestrian 
portrait." 

My  lord's  brows  went  up. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Lascelles,"  said  he,  "  you  are  an 
uncommonly  bold  fellow  to  mention  the  word  '  por- 
trait.' " 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Jim. 

He  laughed  rather  bitterly.  Cheriton  affected  a 
gravely  paternal  air. 

"  Lascelles,"  said  he,  "  I  think  the  fact  that  at 
school  your  father  imbued  me  with  the  elements  of 
wisdom  gives  some  sort  of  sanction  to  a  little  plain 
speaking  on  my  part." 


HYDE  ^ARK  207 

"  Go  on,  Lord  Chcriton,"  said  Jim,  with  gloomy 
resignation.     "  Rub  it  in." 

"  I  think,  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  with  a  fine  as- 
sumption of  the  air  of  a  "  head  beak,"  "  your  con- 
duct merits  censure  in  the  highest  degree." 

"  It  has  received  it,"  said  Jim.  "  I  have  been 
kicking  myself  for  being  such  a  hot-headed  fool  ever 
since  it  happened." 

"  One  is  almost  afraid,"  said  Cheriton,  ruefully, 
"  that  your  indiscretion  is  irreparable.  Really,  Las- 
celles, making  due  allowance  for  the  fact  that  your 
father  was  one  of  the  most  rash  and  hasty  men  I 
ever  encountered,  and  allowing  further  for  the  fact 
that  my  old  friend  has  a  deplorable  absence  of,  shall 
we  say,  amenity,  your  behavior  amounted  neither  more 
nor  less  than  to  suicide." 

"  I  don't  regret  what  I  did,"  said  Jim,  "  as  far  as 
that  old  Gorgon  of  a  woman  is  concerned.  I  am 
afraid  I  should  behave  in  just  the  same  way  again 
if  I  were  placed  in  a  similar  position.  But  I  know  it 
was  very  unwise.  As  for  the  portrait,  I  intend,  by 
hook  or  by  crook,  to  finish  it." 

"  Well,  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  giving  the  young 
fellow  a  kindly  touch  on  the  arm  in  parting,  "  do 
what  you  can ;  and  when  the  work  is  complete  you 
must  let  me  see  it." 

It  was  a  new  Jim  Lascelles  who  returned  to  Balham 
by  the  twelve-thirty  from  Victoria  and  took  luncheon 
with  his  mother.  He  called  at  the  greengrocer's  just 
as  you  get  out  of  the  station,  and  arrived  at  the 
Acacias  with  a  number  of  paper  bags  tucked  under 


208  ARAMINTA 

each  arm.  He  hummed  the  favorite  air  in  the  very 
latest  musical  comedy,  while  he  proceeded  to  make  a 
salad  whose  mysteries  he  had  acquired  in  Paris.  He 
had  been  initiated  into  them  by  Monsieur  Bonnat,  the 
famous  chef  of  the  Hotel  Brinvilhers.  And  it  so 
happened  that  Jim's  mother,  who  spoiled  him  com- 
pletely, had  purchased  a  lobster,  which  she  really 
couldn't  afford,  such  was  the  current  price  of  that 
delicacy  and  the  present  state  of  her  finances,  to  cheer 
Jim  up  a  bit. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Jim,  "  let  us  have  the  last  bottle 
of  the  Johannisberg." 

Miranda,  the  demure  little  maid-of-all-work,  was 
ordered  rather  magnificently  to  procure  the  same. 

"  Pity  'tis,  'tis  the  last,"  said  Jim,  who  proceeded 
to  toast  his  mother.  "  May  those  precious  pub- 
lishers," said  he,  "  learn  truly  to  appreciate  a  very 
remarkable  literary  genius,  my  dear." 

"  I  am  afraid  they  do,  dear  boy,"  said  she.  "  That 
is  the  trouble." 

"  It  is  a  rattling  good  story,  anyhow,"  said  Jim, 
stoutly. 

"  It  certainly  ends  as  every  self-respecting  and 
well-conducted  story  ought.  But  this  old  addle-pate 
hasn't  a  spark  of  literary  genius  in  it." 

"  Oh,  hasn't  it !  "  said  Jim,  bringing  his  fist  upon 
the  table.  "  George  Sand  is  a  fool  to  you,  my 
dear." 

"  Dear  fellow,"  said  Jim's  mother,  with  a  smile  of 
pleasure.  "  At  any  rate  I  am  enough  of  a  genius  to 
like  appreciation.     But  with  you,  laddie,  it  is  differ- 


HYDE  PARK  209 

ent.     You  are  the  real  right  thing,  as  dear  Henry 
James  would  say." 

"  Oh,  am  I?  "  said  Jim.  "  Well,  here's  to  the  Real 
Right  Thing,  whichever  of  us  has  it.  I  know  which 
side  of  the  table  it  is,  if  you  don't." 

"  The  Realest  Rightest  Thing  is  outside  in  the  gar- 
den waiting  for  the  hand  of  the  master  to  complete 
her." 

"  Ye  gods,  the  hand  of  the  master !  You  pile  it  on 
'  a  leetle  beet  tick,'  as  Monsieur  Gillet  would  say  to 
you.  But  shall  I  tell  you  a  secret?  I  saw  the  Goose 
Girl  this  morning." 

"  Of  course  you  did,  dear  boy." 

"  How  did  you  guess  ?  " 

"  The  step  on  the  gravel  told  me." 

"  You  are  wonderful,  you  know.  Fancy  your  find- 
ing it  out  like  that  when  I  tried  hard  to  tread 
heavily ! " 

"  That  vain,  wicked,  foolish,  and  depraved  Goose !  " 
said  Jim's  mother.  "  You  met  her  in  Hyde  Park  this 
morning  walking  with  her  duke,  and  she  gave  you  a 
smile,  and  if  she  was  more  than  usually  foolish,  she 
said, 'Why,  it's  Jim!'" 

"  She  was  a  cheval.  But  you  are  wonderful,  you 
know,"  said  Jim. 

"Riding  was  she.?  And  pray  how  did  the  great 
overgrown  creature  look  outside  a  horse?  " 

"  I  could  never  have  believed  it.  She  was  mounted 
on  a  glorious  chestnut,  a  great  mountain  of  a  beast,  a 
noble  stepper ;  and  in  her  smart  new  habit,  and  in  an 
extraordinarily   coquettish  bowler — think  on  it,  my 


210  ARAMINTA 

dear,  the  Goose  Girl  in  a  bowler ! — she  was  a  picture 
for  the  gods." 

"  One  can  readily  believe  that  the  creature  would 
set  high  Olympus  in  a  roar." 

"  She  was  to  the  manner  born.  She  might  have 
learned  the  art  of  equitation  in  la  haute  ecole  instead 
of  in  the  home  paddock  at  Widdiford  on  that  screw 
of  the  dear  old  governor's." 

"  Oh  no,  dear  boy,"  said  Jim's  mother,  with  de- 
cision. "  Poor  dear  Melancthon  was  anything  but  a 
screw.  He  was  by  Martin  Luther  out  of  Moll  Cut- 
purse.  He  won  the  point-to-point  on  three  occa- 
sions." 

"  I  humbly  beg  Melancthon's  pardon.  That  ex- 
plains why  the  Goose  Girl  comes  to  be  so  proficient. 
She  certainly  looked  this  morning  as  if  she  had  never 
sat  anything  less  than  the  blood  of  Carbine." 

"  I  think  the  secret  of  the  whole  matter,  my  son," 
said  Jim's  mother,  profoundly,  "  is  that  the  Female 
Us  is  so  marvelously  adaptable.  If  she  is  really 
smartly  turned  out  on  a  fine  morning  in  June  with  a 
real  live  duke  on  the  off  side  of  her  and  all  London 
gazing  at  her,  if  she  had  never  learned  to  sit  any- 
thing else  than  a  donkey  she  would  still  contrive  to 
look  as  though  she  had  won  the  whole  gymkhana. 
It  is  just  that  quality  that  makes  the  Female  Us  so 
wonderful.  It  is  just  that  that  maketh  Puss  so  soon 
get  too  big  for  her  dancing  slippers." 

"  Well,  you  wise  woman,"  said  Jim,  "  the  Goose 
Girl  would  have  taken  all  the  prizes  this  morning. 
And  she  didn't  even  cut  me." 


HYDE  PARK  211 

"  Cut  you,  my  son ! "  exclaimed  Jim's  mother. 
*'  Gott  in  himmel !  that  Goose  cut  you  indeed !  " 

"  There  are  not  many  Goose  Girls  that  wouldn't 
have  done  in  the  circumstances.  But  she  is  True 
Blue.  And  I  am  going  to  finish  her  portrait.  And 
I  am  going  to  make  her  permanentl}^  famous." 

Jim's  mother  tilted  the  last  of  the  Johannisberg 
into  his  glass. 

"  Go  in  and  win,  dear  boy,"  said  she.  "  You  have 
genius.  Lavish  it  upon  her.  Earn  fame  and  for- 
tune, and  buy  back  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford." 

"  And  in  the  meantime,"  said  Jim,  "  she  will 
have  married  that  old  fossil  and  borne  him  three 
children." 

"  She  will  not,  dear  boy,"  said  the  voice  of  the 
temptress,  "  if  you  make  her  promise  not  to." 

"  Oh,  that  wouldn't  be  cricket,"  said  Jim,  "  with 
her  people  so  miserably  poor  and  James  Lascelles  by 
no  means  affluent ;  and  the  old  fossil  with  a  house  in 
Piccadilly,  and  another  in  Notts,  and  another  in  Fife- 
shire,  and  a  yacht  in  the  Solent,  and  a  box  at  the 
Opera,  and  a  mausoleum  at  Kensal  Green.  No,  old 
lady,  I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  be  cricket." 

Jim's  mother  exposed  herself  to  the  censure  of  all 
self-respecting  people. 

"  It  would  be  far  less  like  cricket,"  said  she,  "  for 
that  perfect  dear  of  a  Goose  to  have  her  youth,  her 
beauty,  and  her  gayety  purchased  by  a  worldly  old 
ruffian  who  ought  to  be  a  grandfather.  Come,  sir, 
she  awaits  her  very  parfit  gentil  knight." 

But  Jim  shook  his  head  solemnly. 


212  ARAMINTA 

"  No,  old  lady,"  said  he,  "  I  am  afraid  it  wouldn't 
be  playing  the  game." 

Nevertheless,  immediately  luncheon  was  over,  Jim 
took  the  key  of  his  studio  off  the  sitting-room  chim- 
ney-piece, and  went  forth  to  the  misshapen  wooden 
erection  in  the  small  Balham  back  garden.  The  key 
turned  in  the  lock  stiffly.  It  was  nearly  three  weeks 
since  it  had  last  been  in  it.  For  several  hours  he 
worked  joyfully,  touching  and  retouching  the  pic- 
ture and  improvising  small  details  out  of  his  head. 
And  all  the  time  the  Goose  Girl  smiled  upon  him  in 
the  old  Widdiford  manner.  Her  hair  had  never 
looked  so  yellow,  and  her  eyes  had  never  looked  so 
blue. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

DEVELOPMENT    OF    THE    FEMALE    US 

THE  next  morning,  a  little  before  eleven,  the 
wonderful  Miss  Perry,  accompanied  by  the  ad- 
mirable Mr.  Bryant,  was  approaching  Apsley  House 
when  the  figure  of  a  solitary  horseman  was  to  be 
seen.  It  had  a  combination  of  unexpectedness  and 
familiarity  which  fixed  Miss  Perry's  attention.  She 
gave  a  little  exclamation.  The  horseman  was  unmis- 
takably Jim  Lascelles. 

Jim  received  a  most  affectionate  greeting. 

"You  are  just  in  time,"  said  he.  "  It  is  a  near 
thing.  Gobo  is  yonder  in  the  offing.  I  was  afraid  he 
would  get  here  before  you." 

Miss  Perry  was  delighted  but  perplexed  by  a  sug- 
gestion that  Jim  put  forward.  It  was  that  they 
should  go  down  the  left  while  Gobo  rode  up  on  the 
right. 

"  But  I  promised  Gobo,"  she  said. 

"  Look  here.  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  with  tremen- 
dous resolution,  "  do  you  suppose  I  have  invested  the 
last  half-sovereign  I  have  in  the  world  on  the  worst 
hack  in  London,  to  be  cut  out  by  that  old  duffer? 
Come  on  round,  you  Goose,  before  he  gets  up." 

Really  Miss  Perry  is  not  to  be  blamed.  Jim  Las- 
213 


214.  ARAMINTA 

celles  was  resolution  incarnate  once  he  had  made  up 
his  mind.  Jim's  horse,  a  nondescript  who  docs  not 
merit  serious  notice,  walked  a  ±2\\'  paces  briskly,  the 
chestnut  followed  its  example,  as  chestnuts  will,  and 
the  next  thing  was  Jim's  horse  broke  into  a  canter. 
The  chestnut  did  the  same.  Of  course  it  was  Miss 
Perry's  business  to  see  that  the  chestnut  did  nothing 
of  the  sort.  But  it  has  to  be  recorded  that  she  failed 
in  her  obvious  duty.  And  then,  so  swift  is  the  road  to 
destruction,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  inform  the 
incredulous  reader,  the  chestnut  and  the  nondescript 
began  literally  to  fly  down  Rotten  Row. 

It  was  a  golden  morning  of  glorious  June,  and,  of 
course,  things  constantly  happen  at  that  vernal  sea- 
son. But  as  the  four  pairs  of  irresponsible  hoofs 
came  thundering  by,  flinging  up  the  tan  in  all  direc- 
tions and  nearly  knocking  over  a  policeman,  eques- 
trians of  both  sexes,  and  pedestrians  too,  stared  in 
polite  amazement  and  very  decided  disapproval.  If 
not  absolutely  contrary  to  the  park  regulations,  it 
was  certainly  very  wrong  behavior. 

There  is  every  reason  to  suspect  that  the  opinion 
of  that  high  authority,  Mr.  Bryant,  was  even  more 
uncompromising.  Not  for  an  instant  did  he  attempt 
to  cope  with  the  pace  that  had  been  set.  He  was 
content  sadly  to  watch  his  charge  get  farther  and 
farther  away.  He  then  turned  to  look  back  at  the 
man  with  the  red  face,  who  had  just  arrived  at  the 
turn. 

That  elevated  personage,  who  could  not  see  at  all 
well  without  his  spectacles,  halted  at  the  turn  and 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  FEMALE  US     215 

looked  in  vain  for  the  wonderful  Miss  Perry.  His 
friend  Cheriton,  who  had  entered  the  gates  just  in 
time  to  be  au  courant  with  all  that  had  happened,  ac- 
costed him  cheerfully. 

"  Doctors'  orders,  George?  " 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George,  rather  gruffly. 

"  I  warned  you  years  ago,  my  dear  fellow,"  said 
his  friend,  sympathetically,  "  that  any  man  who 
drinks  port  wine  in  the  middle  of  the  day  as  a  regular 
thing,  can  count  later  in  life  on  the  crown  of  the 
martyr." 

George  looked  rather  cross.  He  peered  to  the 
right  and  he  peered  to  the  left.  The  ever-receding 
pair  were  by  now  undecipherable  to  stronger  eyes 
than  those  of  George  Betterton. 

"  Seen  a  gal  about.?  "  he  inquired  rather  irritably. 
There  never  was  a  duke  since  the  creation  of  the  order 
who  could  endure  to  be  kept  waiting. 

"  I've  seen  several,"  said  his  friend,  with  an  air  of 
preternatural  innocence. 

"  I  mean  that  gal  of  Caroline  Crewkerne's,"  said 
George. 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  she  had  one." 

"  Tall,  bouncing  gal,"  said  George.  "  Ginger 
hair." 

"  Ginger  hair !  "  said  his  friend.  "  Tall,  bouncing 
gal !     Do  you  mean  my  ward,  Miss  Perry .?  " 

"  Your  ward!     What  d'ye  mean,  Cheriton.?  " 

"  Caroline  Crewkerne  seems  to  think,"  said  Cher- 
iton, coolly,  "  that  I  shall  serve  the  best  interests  of  a 
lonely  and  unprotected  and  extraordinarily  prepos- 


216  ARAMINTA 

sessing  girlhood  if  I  act,  as  it  were,  in  loco  parentis 
during  Miss  Perry's  sojourn  in  the  vast  metropolis." 

George  began  to  gobble  furiously.  It  was  a  sign, 
however,  that  his  mind  was  working.  That  heavy 
and  rusty  mechanism  was  very  difficult  to  set  in 
motion. 

"  If  it  comes  to  that,"  said  he,  "  I  should  say  I  am 
quite  as  capable  of  looking  after  the  gal  as  you  are." 

"  A  matter  of  opinion,  George,  I  assure  you,"  said 
Cheriton,  with  genial  candor. 

"What  d'ye  mean.?" 

"  For  one  thing,  I  am  rather  older  than  you. 
Therefore,  in  Caroline's  opinion,  I  am  better  fitted  to 
occupy  the  paternal  office." 

"  Are  you,  though.'^  "  said  George,  stubbornly. 

"  I  am  sixty -five,  you  know,"  said  his  friend,  with 
an  air  of  modest  pride.  "  The  ideal  age,  if  I  may 
say  so,  for  wisdom,  experience,  and  knowledge  of  the 
world  to  coalesce  in  the  service  of  innocence,  beauty, 
and  extreme  youth.  At  least,  I  know  that  is  Caro- 
line Crewkerne's  opinion." 

"  Goin'  to  marry  the  gal,  are  you  ?  "  said  George, 
bluntly. 

Some  men  are  very  blunt  by  nature. 

"  The  exigencies  of  the  situation  may  render  that 
course  expedient,"  said  Cheriton,  rather  forensically. 
"  But  in  any  case,  my  dear  George,  speaking  with 
the  frankness  to  which  I  feel  that  my  advantage  in 
years  entitles  me,  I  am  inclined  to  doubt  the  seemli- 
ness  of  the  open  pursuit  by  a  man  of  nine  and  fifty 
of  a  wayside  flower." 


DEVELOPMENT  OF   rHE  FEMALE  US     217 

"What  d'ye  mean,  Cheriton?  "  said  George, 
with  a  more  furious  gobble  than  any  he  had  yet 
achieved. 

"  What  I  really  mean,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  his 
friend,  "  is  that  you  can  no  longer  indulge  in  the 
pleasures  of  the  chase  without  your  spectacles.  Had 
you  been  furnished  with  those  highly  usefid,  if  not 
specially  ornamental  adjuncts  to  the  human  counte- 
nance, you  would  have  been  able  to  observe  that  the 
wonderful  Miss  Perry — whose  hair,  by  the  way,  is 
yellow — was  spirited  away  exactly  ninety  seconds 
before  you  arrived  on  the  scene." 

"  Who  took  her.?  "  said  George,  who  by  now  had 
grown  purple  with  suppressed  energy. 

"  A  young  fellow  took  her,"  said  Cheriton.  "  A 
smart,  dashing,  well-set-up  young  fellow  took  her,  my 
dear  George.  He  simply  came  up,  tossed  her  the 
handkerchief,  and  away  they  set  off  hell  for  leather. 
By  now  they  are  at  the  Albert  Memorial." 

No  sooner  was  this  information  conveyed  to  him 
than  George  Betterton  did  a  vain  and  foolish  thing. 
Without  bestowing  another  word  upon  Cheriton  he 
set  off  in  pursuit.  It  was  supremely  ridiculous  that 
he  should  have  behaved  in  any  such  fashion.  But  it 
is  surprising  how  soon  the  most  stalwart  among  us 
loses  his  poise;  how  soon  the  most  careful  performer 
topples  off  the  tight-rope  of  perfect  discretion  and 
sanity.  The  spectacle  of  George  pursuing  the  run- 
aways with  a  haste  that  was  almost  as  unseemly  as 
their  own  was  certainly  romantic.  And  at  the  same 
time  it  provided  infinitely  pleasant  food  for  the  de- 


218  ARAMINTA 

tached  observer  who  was  responsible  for  George's  be- 
havior. 

Cheriton  stood  to  watch  and  to  laugh  sardonically. 
The  marionette  had  begun  to  answer  to  the  strings 
in  delightful  fashion.  He  promised  to  excel  all 
anticipation. 

In  the  meantime  Young  Blood  was  careering  away 
like  the  wind.  Faster  and  faster  it  went.  It  was 
higher,  deeper,  richer,  more  exhilarating  than  any  of 
the  old  Widdiford  madnesses.  It  was  in  vain  that 
the  British  public  looked  pained  and  the  London 
police  looked  important.  This  was  its  crowded  hour 
of  glorious  life ;  and  if  there  was  to  be  an  end  to  all 
things,  there  were  two  persons  at  least  who  felt  that, 
after  all,  the  cosmos  had  done  very  well  to  get  itself 
invented. 

However,  this  sort  of  thing  cannot  last  forever. 
The  nondescript  soon  began  to  display  signs  of  dis- 
tress. 

"  Bellows  to  mend,"  said  Jim. 

The  glorious  Miss  Perry  had  difficulty  In  checking 
her  chestnut. 

"  Why,"  said  she,  "  he  is  almost  as  strong  as  your 
papa's  pedigree  hunter." 

"  We've  done  a  record  from  the  Red  House  to  the 
Parsonage,  I  think,"  said  Jim. 

Even  when  they  turned  to  ride  back  their  high 
spirits  met  with  no  check.  The  crowded  glorious 
hour  continued,  if  pitched  in  a  less  emotional  key. 
Jim's  nondescript  was  no  longer  equal  to  the  fine 
careless  rapture. 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  FEMALE  US     219 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  do  you  know  I  have 
made  a  resolution  ?  " 

"  Have  you,  Jim?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  I  am  determined  to  finish  that  picture  of  you  in 
your  wonderful  Gainsborough  frock." 

"  Of  course,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  That  picture  is  to  be  a  masterpiece,  you  know." 

"  Is  it,  Jim?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim.  "  And  when  it  has  made  me 
famous  what  do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  do?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Can't  you  guess  ?  " 

Miss  Perry  knitted  her  brows  in  grave  perplexity. 

"  Marry  Muffin." 

"  What,  marry  the  Ragamuffin!  "  said  Jim,  scorn- 
fully. 

"  She  is  prettier  than  Polly  is." 

"  But  she  is  such  a  Ragamuffin ;  and  she  has  never 
an  incredible  hat  and  a  Gainsborough  frock  to  call 
her  own." 

"  She  has  her  mauve,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  No,"  said  Jim,  decisively ;  "  in  spite  of  her  mauve 
I  decline  to  marry  the  Ragamuffin." 

Miss  Perry  looked  vastly  disappointed. 

"  Milly  is  too  young,"  said  she. 

Jim  pressed  the  nondescript.  The  ice  was  getting 
desperately  thin.  And  every  moment  the  light  of  the 
morning  was  making  it  thinner. 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  do  you  remember  that 
once  you  promised  to  marry  me?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry,  "  if  you  got 


^20  ARAMINTA 

those  three  big  red-cheeked  apples  off  the  tree  at  the 
Red  House  at  Widdiford." 

"  I  got  them  off  all  right,"  said  Jim.  "  But  in- 
stead of  receiving  your  hand  in  matrimony  I  got  a 
tremendous  licking." 

"  The  apples  were  awfully  nice,  though,"  said  Miss 
Perry,  like  a  true  daughter  of  Eve. 

The  high  personage  who  controls  the  limelight  con- 
tinued to  play  most  embarrassing  tricks  with  the 
light  of  the  morning.  The  hapless  Jim  Lascelles  felt 
himself  to  be  no  match  for  that  master  hand. 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  defiantly,  "  assuming  for 
a  moment  that  I  made  myself  famous  enough  to  buy 
back  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford,  with  the  straw- 
berry beds  and  the  apple  orchards,  and  the  old 
wicket-gate  that  leads  into  the  back  lane  which  takes 
you  straight  to  the  Parsonage — would  you  keep  the 
promise  that  you  made  when  you  were  a  long-legged 
person  of  seven,  with  a  very  large  appetite,  and  I 
was  a  chubby  subject  of  thirteen  and  a  half  with 
rather  thin  trousers  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Jim,  I  would,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  re- 
markable promptitude,  frankness,  and  sincerity. 

"  There,  now  I've  done  it,"  groaned  Jim.  "  It  was 
bound  to  happen.  I  knew  the  royal  daylight  would 
provoke  me  to  make  a  cad  of  myself  before  it  had 
done  playing  its  tricks.  But  if  people  will  have  yel- 
low hair,  and  they  will  wear  yellow  gauntlets  to  match 
it,  and  that  fellow  upstairs  will  fling  the  limelight  all 
over  the  place,  how  can  a  poor  painting  chap  help 
himself.?  " 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  FEMALE  US     221 

Miss  Perry  had  grown  very  grave.  She  was  silent 
for  twenty -five  seconds. 

"  Jim,"  said  she,  with  slow-drawn  solemnity,  "  if 
you  do  marry  anybody,  I  r-r-really  think  it  ought  to 
be  Muffin." 

"  That  Ragamuffin !  " 

"  She  is  such  a  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  And 
she  is  so  pretty ;  and  dearest  papa  says  she  is 
so  clever;  and  of  course  you  know  I  am  rather  a 
Silly." 

"  AU  the  world  knows  it." 

"  And  Muffin  always  said  she  would  just  love  to 
live  at  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford." 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  I  am  afraid  you  are 
deep.     You  want  to  marry  Gobo." 

"  Not  r-r-really,"  said  Miss  Perry,  w^ith  w^ide-cycd 
earnestness.  "  Of  course  he  is  a  dear,  but — but  of 
course,  Jim,  he  is  not  like  you  are." 

"  Thank  you  very  much  for  the  information.  But 
tell  me.  Goose  Girl,  wouldn't  you  like  to  be  a 
duchess  .f^  " 

"  Oh  no,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Why  not,  you  Goose?  " 

"  It  sounds  rather  silly." 

"  So  it  does,  now  you  come  to  mention  it,"  said 
Jim.  "  But  think  of  all  the  wonderful  frocks  and 
jewels  you  would  have,  and  the  wonderful  houses,  and 
the  wonderful  horses,  and  the  wonderful  ices  of  every 
conceivable  color  and  every  possible  flavor.  And  as 
for  cream  buns,  a  duchess  of  course  can  have  as  many 
as  she  requires." 


222  ARAMINTA 

"  I  would  rather  have  the  Red  House  at  Widdi- 
ford,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Really,"  said  Jim,  "  you  are  the  most  tremendous 
thing  in  Geese.  Just  think  what  you  could  do  if  you 
were  a  duchess.  You  could  buy  old  books  and  new 
vestments  for  your  papa;  Muffin  could  have  a  new 
mauve;  the  Polly  Girl  could  marry  her  parson,  and 
she  could  boast  of  her  sister  who  married  the  duke; 
and  the  Milly  Girl  could  think  more  about  Persian 
kittens  and  less  about  self -improvement ;  and  as  for 
Dickie  and  Charley,  they  both  might  go  to  Sandhurst 
and  probably  become  field-marshals." 

The  blue  eyes  of  Miss  Perry  opened  in  their  dazzle- 
ment  to  dimensions  that  were  perfectly  astonishing. 

"  It  would  be  awfully  nice,"  said  she ;  *'  but, 
Jim " 

"Well.?" 

"  I  did  promise  you,  didn't  I.''  " 

"  You  would  never  have  got  those  three  red- 
cheeked  apples  if  you  hadn't,"  said  Jim. 

As  they  neared  the  turn  at  Hyde  Park  Corner  they 
began  unconsciously  to  assume  airs  of  decorum.  The 
accusing  figure  of  Mr.  Bryant  awaited  them.  Lord 
Cheriton  too  was  only  a  little  way  off.  He  stood  by 
the  railings  looking  the  picture  of  outraged  delicacy. 

When  the  runaways  came  up  to  greet  him  he  held 
up  both  hands  before  his  face  with  the  gesture  of 
dismay  of  a  very  nice  old  lady. 

"  I  am  dumb,"  said  he. 

Apparently  Jim  Lascelles  was  smitten  with  a  sim- 
ilar infirmity.     As  for  Miss  Perry,  the  ineradicable 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  FEMALE  US     223 

instincts  of  her  sex  assumed  the  control  of  that  irre- 
sponsible person. 

''Have  you  seen  Gobo?  "  she  demanded  breath- 
lessly. 

The  blend  of  disinterested  concern  and  absolute 
innocence  was  perfectly  charming. 

"  I  could  never  have  believed  it,"  said  Cheriton, 
with  a  pained  air.  "  The  finished  duplicity,  the 
Jesuitical  depth." 

"  Have  you  seen  him.^  "  demanded  Miss  Perry. 

"  Have  I  seen  Gobo.^^  I  have  seen  a  roaring,  out- 
raged lion  in  the  guise  of  a  rampant  turkey  cock." 

"It  is  an  awful  pity,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "We 
missed  him." 

Cheriton  felt  that  he  had  never  observed  such 
gravely  sweet  concern  in  the  human  countenance.  To 
have  suspected  its  proprietress  of  arriere  pensee  would 
have  been  barbarism. 

"  Yes ;  an  awful  pity,"  Cheriton  assented.  "  Par- 
ticularly for  men  of  a  rather  full  habit  of  body  who 
are  decidedly  short  in  the  neck." 

"  Do  you  think  Gobo  will  mind?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  You  see,  Jim " — the  handle  of  Jim's  crop  was 
ominously  near  to  her  knee — "  Mr.  Lascelles  came 
up,  and  we  thought  if  we  went  down  we  should  be 
sure  to  meet  Gobo,  but  we  didn't." 

"  Lascelles,  my  good  fellow,"  said  his  friend,  "  isn't 
it  time  you  began  to  play  up  a  bit?  Miss  Perry's 
lucidity  is  admirable,  but  somehow  one  has  the  feeling 
that  her  verisimilitude  wants  eking  out  a  little.  Your 
version  will  be  interesting." 


224  ARAMINTA 

"  My  mount  cost  a  cool  half-sovereign  which  I 
couldn't  afford,"  said  Jim,  brazenly,  "  and  I  thought 
as  it  was  a  fine  morning  I  had  better  have  my  money's 
worth." 

Cheriton's  smile  expanded  to  the  dimensions  of  his 
necktie. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  this  sort  of  thing  is 
best  left  to  those  who  are  born  with  the  instinct  for 
diplomacy.  Lascelles,  my  good  fellow,  you  would 
have  done  far  better  to  have  pinned  your  faith  to  your 
companion  in  guilt.  Her  version  was  excellent,  if  a 
little  bald.  To  my  mind  it  was  pitched  in  quite  the 
right  key.  It  was  natural,  lucid,  admirably  reticent. 
It  clearly  suggested  that  the  blame  could  not  belong 
to  either  of  you,  whoever  else  it  might  be  fixed  upon. 
Unfortunately,  your  own  version  does  not  tend  to  ex- 
onerate you  equally.  I  must  confess,  Lascelles,  that 
upon  my  mind  it  leaves  a  most  unhappy  impression." 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  Jim,  "  I  am  seeking  a  fresh 
store  of  inspiration  in  order  that  I  may  complete  the 
chef  d'ceuvre^ 

"  I  think  it  should  be  a  masterpiece  undoubtedly." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Jim. 

Miss  Perry's  far-seeing,  west-country  eyes  ap- 
peared to  be  searching  for  something  on  the  far 
horizon. 

"  Gobo  is  coming,"  said  she. 

"  Which  way.^  "  said  Jim. 

"  He  is  coming  up  on  the  right.  Don't  you  see 
him.?  " 

Jim  had  to  strain  his  gaze. 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  FEMALE  US     225 

"  Yes ;  by  Jove,  you  are  right !  "  said  he.  "  What 
wonderful  eyes  you  have  got,  Miss  Perry !  " 

"  It  is  so  long  since  one  inhabitated  the  halcyon  era 
of  one's  youth,"  said  Cheriton,  "  that  one  is  rather  at 
a  loss  to  remember  whether  Red  Riding  Flood  made 
a  similar  observation  to  the  vvolf ,  or  whether  the  wolf 
made  the  observation  to  Red  Riding  Hood." 

"  The  former,  undoubtedly,"  said  Jim. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  Cheriton.  "  I  feared  it 
might  have  been  the  latter." 

"  Hadn't  we  better  be  going  ?  "  said  Jim,  brazenly, 
to  his  companion  in  guilt.  "  This  screw  of  mine 
seems  to  have  got  his  wind  back." 

*'  Has  he,  Jim?  "  said  Miss  Perry. 

Jim's  nondescript  took  a  turn  to  the  left.  The 
chestnut  followed  in  the  most  natural  manner.  On 
this  occasion,  however,  the  distance  between  the 
Parsonage  and  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford  was  not 
accomplished  in  quite  such  record  time.  All  the  same, 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  way  the  pace  was  de- 
cidedly hot. 

"  Seen  anything  of  the  gal,  George.''  "  inquired  his 
friend  Cheriton. 

George  was  looking  very  purple  indeed. 

"  I  saw  a  cloud  of  dust  just  now,"  said  he.  "  There 
was  a  ginger-haired  gal  in  it  going  at  a  dooce  of  a 
rattle." 

"  I  can't  imagine  my  ward.  Miss  Perry,  attempt- 
ing anything  in  the  nature  of  a  rattle,"  said  Cheriton. 

"  Can't  you.?  "  grunted  George,  sourly. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

FASHION    COMES    TO    THE    ACACIAS 

JIM  LASCELLES  was  inclined  to  view  his  morn- 
ing as  a  very  great  success.  It  is  true  that  it  had 
cost  him  the  last  half-sovereign  he  had  in  the  world, 
but  he  felt  that  it  had  been  invested  to  full  advan- 
tage. He  had  derived  a  new  store  of  inspiration  from 
that  memorable  morning.  For  a  whole  week  he  was 
sustained  by  the  recollection  of  it.  He  gave  up  his 
days  to  joyous  labor  in  the  wooden  erection  in  the 
Balham  back  garden. 

"  I  shall  make  something  of  her  after  all,"  said  he. 

One  morning  when  he  came  down  to  breakfast  he 
found  a  letter  at  the  side  of  his  plate.  This,  in  itself, 
was  an  event  sufficiently  rare,  because  Jim  Lascelles 
was  one  of  those  people  who  never  write  a  letter  if 
they  can  possibly  avoid  doing  so.  The  envelope  had 
rather  an  air  about  it.  Upon  the  back  of  it  was  a 
monogram  of  a  distinguished  club. 

"  What  ho !  "  said  Jim. 

A  pair  of  eyes  by  no  means  ill  found  in  worldly 
wisdom  had  duly  noted  that  which  was  on  the  back  of 
the  letter. 

"  The  correspondent  of  dukes,"  said  their  owner. 
"  Which  of  them  is  it,  my  son.^  " 

336 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     227 

Jim  threw  the  contents  of  the  envelope  across  the 
table  with  a  gay  laugh. 

Dear  Lascelles  (it  said), — The  art  of  the 
age  seems  clearly  to  call  for  the  presence  at  the 
Acacias  of  the  wonderful  Miss  Perry,  Unless 
the  Fates  are  adverse — which,  according  to 
Juvenal,  they  are  sometimes — she  will  appear 
about  4^.30  o^ clock  to-morrow  (Tuesday)  after- 
noon to  claim  in  her  own  proper  person  a  cup  of 
tea,  together  with  two  lumps  of  sugar  and  one 
cream  bun,  Buszard's  large  size.  Forgive  the 
shortness  of  the  notice.  Our  old  and  common 
friend  did  not  develop  sufficiently  marked  symp- 
toms of  laryngitis  until  this  morning  to  submit 
to  the  decree  of  her  medical  adviser.  He  has 
ordered  her  to  keep  her  bed.  The  accomplished 
Miss  Burden  accompanies  us  in  an  official 
capacity.     Ponto  does  not. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Cheriton. 

P.S. — Strawberries  and  cream  are  known  to 
be  very  delectable. 

Jim's  uncommonly  youthful  mother  was  vastly 
amused. 

"  Never  tell  me,  my  son,"  said  she,  "  that  an  ex- 
tremely well-informed  Providence  does  not  watch  over 
the  destinies  of  even  the  humbler  denizens  of  the 
suburb  of  Balham.  We  are  to  be  deluged  with  three 
persons  of  fashion,  and  the  Miss  Champneys  are  sure 


228  ARAMINTA 

to  pay  a  call — they  alwaj^s  pay  a  call — this  after- 
noon." 

"  Those  old  guys,"  said  Jim.  "  I  sincerely  hope 
not." 

"  When  will  you  learn,  my  son,"  said  Jim's  mother, 
"  to  be  more  respectful  towards  the  two  great  ladies 
of  our  neighborhood,  the  real  live  daughters  of  a  de- 
ceased dean?  " 

"  I  beg  their  pardons,"  said  Jim,  who  was 
humbled.  "  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  getting  very  un- 
couth of  late." 

"  The  great  world  is  so  unsettling,  my  son.  I  am 
afraid  you  are  already  beginning  to  patronize  a 
ridiculous  old  frump  like  me." 

"  Beginning !  "  said  Jim. 

"  But  remember,  my  son,  I  am  determined  that  I 
will  not  be  patronized  in  my  own  house  by  your  friend 
the  duke." 

"  Oh !  he  won't  try  to,"  said  Jim,  airily.  "  He's 
a  very  civil  old  soul,  the  same  as  you  are, 
my  dear,  although  his  circumstances  are  rather 
better." 

"  I  won't  be  patronized  by  that  Goose  either,"  said 
Jim's  mother,  with  tremendous  spirit. 

"  You  run  no  danger  in  that  quarter,"  said  Jim. 
"  It  will  be  as  much  as  ever  she  can  do  adequately  to 
patronize  the  strawberries  and  cream." 

"  And  who,  pray,  is  the  accomplished  Miss  Burden.'^ 
I  will  not  be  patronized  by  her  either." 

"  I  won't  answer  for  you  there,  senora.  You  might 
get  short  shift  from  that  quarter." 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     229 

"  We  shall  see,  my  son,"  said  Jim's  mother,  with  an 
air  almost  of  truculence. 

The  back  sitting-room  at  the  Acacias  was  really  a 
very  mediocre  affair.  It  contained  so  little  furniture 
that  it  was  made  to  look  half  as  large  again  as  it 
actually  was.  The  small  room  was  cool  and  tasteful 
if,  perhaps,  somewhat  too  obviously  simple  and  inex- 
pensive. It  contained  not  a  single  reminiscence  of 
b^^gone  grandeur.  For  one  thing,  the  crash  had  been 
rather  in  the  nature  of  a  holocaust ;  and  again,  an 
opulent  past  is  a  poor  sort  of  aid  to  a  penurious 
present. 

The  walls  were  decorated  by  a  blue  wash  and  by  a 
single  picture,  a  study  by  Monsieur  Gillet  for  his  en- 
chanting "  La  Dame  au  Gant."  It  had  been  given 
by  that  master  to  a  young  English  pupil  of  whom  he 
was  extremely  fond.  It  held  the  bare  walls  all  by 
itself.  Jim  was  a  little  vain  about  it.  Then  there 
was  a  little  shelf  of  books.  It  comprised  five  novels 
by  Turgenev,  two  by  Stendhal,  three  by  Anatole 
France,  four  by  Meredith,  three  by  Henry  James, 
two  volumes  of  Heine,  the  lyrics  of  Victor  Hugo,  two 
plays  of  D'Annunzio,  and  a  volume  of  Baude- 
laire. There  were  two  bowls  of  roses  also,  which 
Jim  had  procured  for  his  mother  in  honor  of  the 
occasion. 

At  a  quarter  to  four  Mrs.  Lascelles  sat  reading 
"  Pecheur  d'Islande  "  for  the  thirteenth  time.  She 
looked  very  cool  and  dainty  in  a  simple  black  dress, 
embellished  with  still  simpler  white  muslin.  Her  look 
of  youth  had  never  been  quite  so  aggressive;  and  in 


230  ARAMINTA 

Jim's  opinion  her  wise  little  smile  of  tempered  gayety 
was  perfectly  irresistible. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Jim,  censoriously,  "  it  is  time  you 
made  a  serious  effort  to  look  older." 

"  I  do  try  so  hard,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles,  plain- 
tively. "  This  is  positively  the  most  frumpish  frock 
I  possess,  and  I  have  done  my  hair  over  my  ears  on 
purpose." 

"  Haven't  you  an  older  frock?  "  said  Jim. 

"  This  one  is  decidedly  the  elder  of  the  two,  laddie." 

"How  old  is  it?" 

"  Seven  years." 

"  And  what  is  the  age  of  the  other  one?  " 

"  It  is  a  mere  infant.     It  is  only  five." 

"  Then  it  is  quite  time  you  had  a  new  one." 

"  It  is  not  usual,  I  believe,  for  a  woman  to  get  a 
new  dress  for  the  purpose  of  making  herself  look 
older." 

"  But  then  you  are  a  most  unusual  woman." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  unusual,  laddie.  I  do  try  so 
hard  not  to  be.  If  there  is  one  thing  I  dislike  more 
intensely  than  another  it  is  an  unusual  woman." 

"  Then  you  are  very  perverse.  I  wonder  what  ef- 
fect it  would  have  if  you  did  your  hair  higher." 

"  I  will  try  if  you  like ;  but  I  know " 

"What  do  you  know?"  said  Jim,  sternly. 

"  That  I  never  look  quite  so  maternal  as  when  I 
have  it  over  my  ears." 

"  Well,  it's  a  serious  matter.  I  look  like  being 
driven  to  get  a  new  mother." 

"  There  is  a  scarcity  of  good  ones,  my  son." 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     231 

Jim  scanned  the  tiny  sitting-room  with  a  very 
critical  look. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  he,  "  that  httlc  rosewood 
piano  and  that  little  effort  of  Monsieur  Gillet's  are 
the  only  decent  things  in  it," 

"  I  am  afraid  we  have  an  air  of  cheap  gentility," 
said  his  mother.  "  But  don't  let  them  sneer  at  it. 
Gentility  of  any  kind  is  quite  an  honorable  aspira- 
tion." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Jim,  "  if  there  is  anybody  in  the 
neighborhood  who  would  lend  us  a  Peerage  for  the 
afternoon.  We  might  stick  it  in  the  center  of  the 
room  upon  that  little  Japanese  table." 

The  front-door  bell  was  heard  to  ring. 

"  Too  late,  too  late,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles,  dramati- 
cally.    "  The  peerage  has  already  arrived." 

"  It  is  the  Miss  Champneys,"  said  Jim. 

"  I  think  not,  laddie.  It  is  only  twenty  past  four, 
and  it  is  so  much  more  impressive  to  pay  a  call  at 
five." 

"  Two  to  one  it's   the  Hobson  Family." 

The  countenance  of  Jim's  mother  assumed  a  look 
of  anxiety  that  bordered  upon  the  tragic. 

"  By  all  the  saints  and  all  the  powers,"  said  she, 
"  I  had  quite  forgotten  the  existence  of  the  Hobson 
Family.     Do  you  really  think  it  can  be?" 

"  I  am  perfectly  sure  of  it,"  said  Jim,  with  Im- 
mense conviction.  "  This  is  an  opportunity  that  the 
Hobson  Family  could  not  possibly  miss." 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear !  "  said  Jim's  mother,  "  what  is 
to  be  done?  " 


ARAMINTA 

"  These  things  are  sent  to  try  us,"  said  Jim, 
philosophically.  "  The  Hobson  Family  has  no  other 
raison  d'etre.^^ 

"  Alack !  alack !  "  gasped  Jim's  mother. 

The  little  maid-of-all-work  entered  the  room.  With 
her  prim  freckled  countenance  and  her  hair,  which 
like  herself  was  quite  unnecessarily  pretty,  done  over 
a  roll,  she  conveyed  somewhat  the  impression  of  a 
small  cat  who  has  the  furtive  air  of  a  confirmed  cream 
stealer.  Also  she  had  the  air  of  one  who  takes  an 
immense  interest  in  everything. 

"  Miss  Burden,"  announced  the  little  maid-of-all- 
work,  as  though  it  gave  her  great  pleasure  to  do  so. 
"  Miss  Perry.     The  Earl  of  Cheriton." 

Mrs.  Lascelles  laid  "  Pecheur  d'Islande  "  upon  the 
varnished  boards.  She  rose  to  greet  Miss  Perry  with 
an  exclamation.  In  the  circumstances  it  was  most 
natural,  for  Miss  Perry  was  looking  neither  more  nor 
less  than  a  goddess. 

Jim's  mother  took  a  hand  of  Miss  Perry  in  each 
of  her  own. 

"  You  are  too  wonderful,"  said  she.  "  You  take 
away  one's  breath.  I  always  predicted  that  you 
would  grow  up  a  beautiful  girl ;  but,  really,  who  could 
have  expected  this." 

Miss  Perry  said  nothing  at  first.  She  merely  pro- 
ceeded to  hug  Jim's  mother  in  the  traditional  Widdi- 
ford  manner. 

Mrs.  Lascelles  appeared  to  undergo  some  little  per- 
sonal inconvenience  in  the  process. 

*'  You  wonderful  being,"  she  gasped. 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     233 

Jim  presented  Miss  Burden  to  his  mother  with  a 
formal  and  becoming  gravity.  There  was  always  a 
veiled  tenderness  about  the  eyes  of  Miss  Burden  which 
to  some  people  rendered  her  oddly  attractive.  Her 
air  of  shyness  was  also  thought  by  some  to  be  a  merit. 

"  So  sweet  of  you  to  come,"  said  Jim's  mother. 
She  had  already  performed  the  feminine  operation 
of  falling  in  love  with  Miss  Burden  at  first  sight. 

"  I  should  also  like,  my  dear,"  said  Jim,  with  ex- 
cellent gravity,  "  to  make  you  and  Lord  Cheriton 
acquainted  with  one  another.  You  can't  think  how 
kind  he  has  been  to  me." 

Jim's  mother  gazed  demurely  into  the  complacent 
and  amused  countenance  of  that  peer. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  be  able  to  guess,"  said  she. 

"  Capital,"  that  peer  was  heard  to  murmur  with 
extraordinary  irrelevance. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Jim. 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Cheriton,  in  his 
most  graciously  musical  manner,  "  not  at  all.  I  made 
no  observation.  But  I  should  like  to  be  allowed  to 
make  one.     What  remarkable  sunshine  for  London." 

"  The  sunshine  is  occasionally  quite  obtrusive  at 
Balham,"  said  Jim's  mother.  "  Lower  the  sunblind  a 
little,  laddie.  You  will  find  that  chair  the  coolest, 
Lord  Cheriton." 

It  was  really  not  necessary  for  Mrs.  Lascelles  to 
offer  the  coolest  chair  to  Lord  Cheriton.  For,  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  he  looked  cool  enough  already.  It 
was  perhaps  his  most  assiduously  cultivated  and  most 
carefuUy  cherished  characteristic.     However,  he  took 


234  ARAMINTA 

the  chair  Jim's  mother  had  indicated.  He  took  it 
almost  as  if  he  were  conferring  homage  upon  it. 
Having  chosen  a  Hkely  spot  upon  the  varnished 
boards  upon  which  to  set  his  silk  hat,  he  proceeded  to 
place  it  there  with  immense  precision.  He  then 
crossed  his  lavender  trousers  very  urbanely,  display- 
ing in  the  process  an  extremely  neat  and  spotless  pair 
of  white  gaiters.  He  then  placed  his  black-rimmed 
eyeglass  in  the  left  or  more  fashionable  e3^e,  and  sur- 
veyed his  surroundings  with  a  leisurely  benevolence 
that  was  really  most  engaging. 

By  the  time  Cheriton  appeared  to  be  pleasantly 
settled,  and  by  the  time  Mrs.  Lascelles  had  fully  re- 
covered from  the  effects  of  Miss  Perry's  third  hug, 
she  said — 

"  Ring,  laddie." 

Jim  obeyed.  He  had  assumed  already  an  air  of 
almost  unwarrantable  humor. 

The  little  maid-of-all-work  entered. 

"  Tea,  please,  Miranda,"  said  her  mistress. 

Miranda  embellished  the  command  of  her  mistress 
with  a  totally  unnecessary  half  courtesy  which  she 
was  apt  to  produce  upon  state  occasions.  It  was  a 
remarkably  effective  little  affair,  although  its  true 
place  was  undoubtedly  a  comic  opera. 

"  Capital !  "  murmured  Cheriton.  And  then,  as  a 
pause  in  the  conversation  seemed  to  give  his  remark 
a  significance  to  which  it  laid  no  claim,  he  added 
sententiously,  "  weather  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim,  "  capital  weather." 

Miss  Burden  addressed  a  remark  to  Jim's  mother. 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     235 

"  Do  you  think  the  exhibition  of  the  Royal  Acad- 
demy  is  equal  to  the  last  one  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  better,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles,  with 
an  air  of  conviction,  "  decidedly  better,  don't 
you?" 

"  That  is  because  there  is  a  picture  by  a  young 
fellow  of  the  name  of  Lascelles  in  it,"  said  Jim. 

"  Quite  a  sufficient  reason,"  said  Cheriton. 

"  The  brutes  have  skyed  me,  though,"  said  Jim. 

"  Jealousy,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Cheriton.  "  The 
Church,  the  stage,  and  the  fine  arts  live  in  perpetual 
dread  of  the  rising  generation." 

"  That  is  so  true.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim's 
mother.  "  I  am  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that.  Of 
course  it  is  jealousy.  Those  musty  and  stereotyped 
old  R.A.'s  are  dreadfully  frightened  of  young  men 
with  new  ideas." 

"  Profoundly  true,  my  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles ;  pro- 
foundly true,"  said  Cheriton,  with  the  deference  of  a 
courtier. 

"  My  mother  expects  every  one  who  enters  this 
house,"  said  Jim,  aggrievedly,  "  to  declare  that  I'm  a 
genius." 

"  I  do  not  find  it  at  all  hard,"  said  Cheriton,  "  to 
obey   that  condition." 

"  People  of  taste  never  do,"  said  Jim's  mother, 
beaming  upon  my  lord. 

The  little  maid-of-all-work  brought  in  a  tea-tray 
and  a  basket  of  comestibles. 

"  Miranda,"  said  her  mistress,  "  if  Mrs.  Hobson 
calls,  or  Miss  Hermia  Hobson,  or  Miss  Harriet  Hob- 


SS6  ARAMINTA 

son,  or  Mr.  Hobson,  or  Mr.  Herbert  Hobson,  or  Mr. 
Henry  Hobson  calls,  I  am  not  at  home." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  the  little  maid-of-all- 
work,  with  an  air  of  great  intelligence,  and  with  a 
further  display  of  the  comic-opera  courtesy. 

"  Sugar  or  lemon,  Miss  Burden  .^^ "  said  Jim's 
mother. 

Miss  Burden  took  sugar,  a  small  lump.  Miss  Perry 
took  two  lumps,  size  not  stated. 

"  I  wish  these  cups  were  more  sensible,"  said  Jim's 
mother,  with  a  reminiscence  and  an  apology. 

"  That  cup  is  absurd,  my  dear,"  said  Jim. 

Miss  Perry  seemed  inclined  to  agree  with 
Jim. 

"  Fetch  the  largest  cup  we  have  in  the  house, 
please,  Miranda,"  said  her  mistress. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said 
Miss  Perry. 

Jim  handed  bread  and  butter  and  strawberries. 
Miss  Burden  was  content  with  a  small  slice  of  the 
former.  Miss  Perry  was  more  eclectic  in  her  patron- 
age. Jim  was  then  guilty  of  an  action  which  his 
mother  was  forced  to  consider  as  singularly  ill  bred. 
He  took  up  the  plate  of  cream  buns,  Buszard's  large 
size,  which  had  been  specially  procured,  and  placed  it 
on  the  chimneypiece  in  a  very  ostentatious  manner. 
And  at  the  same  time  he  indulged  in  a  classical  quota- 
tion to  Lord  Cheriton,  who  laughed  as  though  he 
understood  it.  It  is  possible  that  Miss  Burden  under- 
stood it  also,  but  Mrs.  Lascelles  seemed  a  little  doubt- 
ful about  its  meaning.     As  for  Miss  Perry,  she  was 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     287 

perfectly  frank  and  wholly  unabashed  in  her  abysmal 
ignorance. 

"  What  does  it  mean?  "  she  demanded,  with  a  thrill 
in  her  voice  and  her  azure  orbs  very  wide. 

"  It  means,"  said  Jim,  "  it  is  better  to  contemplate 
from  afar  the  rewards  of  virtue  than  to  partake  of 
them  prematurely." 

"  A  free  translation,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Cheri- 
ton,  "  creditable  alike  to  your  scholarship,  your  liter- 
ary instinct,  and  your  knowledge  of  human  nature." 

"  But  you  owe  me  one,  you  know,"  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  Doesn't  he.  Lord  Cheriton  .^  " 

"  I  am  afraid,  Lascelles,"  said  that  peer,  "  it  will 
be  necessary  to  return  a  true  bill." 

Jim  presented  Miss  Perry  with  one  cream  bun  on  a 
blue  china  plate. 

"  That  spotted  cake  with  the  almonds  in  it  Is  top- 
ping," said  he,  attempting  maliciously  to  embarrass 
Miss  Perry  with  riches.  "  The  pastrycook  who  cre- 
ates it  has  a  reputation  that  extends  as  far  as  Upper 
Tooting  and  Streatham." 

"  I  will  try  some,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

Lord  Cheriton  took  lemon  with  his  tea,  also  a  rusk. 

"  Genius  is  a  delightful  thing,"  said  he,  conversa- 
tionally. "  I  have  a  genius  for  admiring  it  in 
others." 

"  One  feels  sure  you  must  have,"  said  Jim's  mother, 
most  sympathetically.  "  I  am  trying  to  cultivate  it 
also.  As  one  is  the  mother  of  a  highly  gifted  son,  one 
feels  that  one  ought." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Cheriton.     "  And  may  one  ven- 


238  ARAMINTA 

ture  to  remark  that  you  will  not  find  the  undertaking 
difficult?" 

"  Lord.  Cheriton,"  said  Jim,  in  a  tone  of  warning, 
"  weigh  your  words  carefully.  My  life  is  in  danger 
of  becoming  a  burden  to  me.  As  for  you,  senora," 
said  Jim,  sternly,  "  once  more,  and  with  the  most 
marked  publicity,  I  deny  with  all  the  vehemence  of 
which  I  am  capable  that  I  am  a  genius." 

"  What,  pray,  is  the  use.^  "  said  his  mother.  "  It 
is  futile  to  deny  it.  Besides,  even  if  you  were  not,  it 
is  not  right  to  contradict  your  old  mother,  especiall}'^ 
before  company." 

"  So  true,"  murmured  the  arbiter  elegantiarum 
nibbling  at  his  rusk. 

Jim,  however,  was  a  young  fellow  with  resources. 
He  proceeded  immediately  to  carry  the  war  into  the 
enemy's  country. 

"  I  am  afraid.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  he,  "  that 
judgment  is  not  my  mother's  strong  point.  You  see, 
she  is  not  so  mature  as  she  might  be." 

"  I  have  observed  it,"  said  Cheriton. 

"  Her  absence  of  judgment,"  said  Jim,  coolly,  "  or 
her  absence  of  maturity.?  " 

"  I  have  observed  her  absence  of  maturity,"  said 
Cheriton,  with  a  coolness  in  nowise  behind  the  cool- 
ness of  Jim. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  said  Jim,  "  she  is  too  young 
to  be  the  mother  of  a  great  hulking  fellow  like 
me." 

"  I  am  incHned  to  agree  with  you,  Lascelles,"  said 
my  lord,  with  his  courtier's  air.     "  But  in  my  humble 


FASHION  COMES  10  THE  ACACIAS     239 

judgment  it  is  a  pleasant  folly  for  a  mother  to  err  on 
the  side  of  youth." 

"  It  is  a  form  of  indiscretion  not  without  its  dan- 
gers," said  Jim. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Lascelles,  you  are  undoubtedly 
right  there." 

"  This  spotted  cake  with  the  almonds  in  it  is 
awfully  nice,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  The  confection  with  the  pink  icing  and  the 
sugar-plums  is  generally  admired  at  Balham,"  said 
Jim. 

"  I  will  try  some,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  Quite  a 
small  piece,  please.  I  think  pink  icing  is  so  nice; 
don't  you.?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Jim,  cutting  a  liberal  piece  for  two 
persons. 

A  ring  was  heard  to  proceed  from  the  front-door 
bell.     Mrs.  Lascelles  betrayed  anxiety. 

"  I  trust,"  said  she,  "  our  small  Cerberus  will 
prove  equal  to  a  frontal  attack  by  the  Hobson 
family." 

"  She  will,  unquestionably,"  said  Jim,  with  an  air 
of  reassurance. 

"  It  would  be  a  great  disappointment  if  she  didn't," 
said  Cheriton,  "  if  one  may  venture  to  express  a 
purely  personal  emotion." 

"  Why,  Lord  Cheriton  ?  "  said  Jim's  mother.  Her 
tone  was  a  natural  blend  of  surprise  and  interest. 

"  A  lifelong  habit  of  minute  observation,"  said 
Cheriton,  "  emboldens  one  to  think  that  she  would 
prove  equal  to  anything." 


240  ARAMINTA 

Before  Cheriton  could  suffer  rebuke  for  holding  an 
opinion  upon  such  a  subject,  the  little  maid-of -all- 
work  announced — 

"  Lady  Charlotte  Greg,  Miss  Champneys,  Miss 
Laetitia  Champneys." 

The  space  of  the  small  back  sitting-room  was 
sensibly  diminished  by  the  entrance  of  three  tall  bony 
women,  each  equally  austere  of  feature  and  ponderous 
of  manner.  Each  was  veiled  and  habited  in  black 
with  white  facings ;  and  although  their  boots  were  not 
elastic-sided,  it  is  difficult  to  advance  any  adequate 
reason  for  their  not  being  so  fashioned. 

Miss  Champneys,  whose  manner  was  decidedly 
impressive,  introduced  to  Jim's  mother  Lady  Char- 
lotte Greg,  her  oldest  friend,  who  was  staying  with 
them  at  The  Laurels  for  the  purpose  of  opening  the 
sale  of  work  at  Saint  Agatha's.  Lady  Charlotte 
Greg,  the  daughter  of  a  successful  politician  and  the 
wife  of  an  evangelical  bishop,  conveyed  the  right  de- 
gree of  distance  in  her  greeting.  And  after  all,  when 
you  come  to  think  of  it,  the  distance  is  very  great  be- 
tween a  tiny  back  sitting-room  at  Balham  and  the 
Palace  at  Marchester. 

While  these  three  very  large  ladies  were  adjusting 
themselves  to  three  somewhat  small  chairs,  and  they 
were  accepting  tea  from  a  fresh  brew  duly  procured 
by  the  assiduous  Miranda,  each  lifted  her  black  veil 
and  scrutinized  her  surroundings  and  her  company 
with  a  rather  ruthless  directness.  It  always  seemed 
to  the  quailing  hostess  of  the  Acacias,  the  Chestnuts, 
the  Elms,  or  of  Beaconsfield  Villas,  when  she  met  that 


FASHION  COMES  TO  THE  ACACIAS     Ml 

glance  that  a  personal  apology  was  demanded  from 
her. 

All  three  ladies  were  unanimous  in  the  opinion  that 
Mrs.  Lascelles'  callers  were  overdressed.  And  in  their 
opinion  to  be  overdressed  was  to  be  guilty  of  one  of 
the  seven  deadly  sins. 

"  I  am  convinced,"  said  Miss  Laetitia  Champneys, 
in  an  undertone  to  Lady  Charlotte  Greg,  "  that  that 
girl  in  the  preposterous  hat  with  feathers  is  an 
actress." 

In  the  opinion  of  Miss  Laetitia  Champneys 
for  any  person  to  be  an  actress  was  to  identify 
one's  self  with  the  most  elemental  form  of  human 
degradation. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  require  to  be  told,  Laetitia?  " 
said  Lady  Charlotte,  bridling.  She  felt  that  not  only 
her  sense  of  decency  but  also  her  knowledge  of  the 
world  had  been  aspersed.  "  And  that  preposterous 
person  with  the  eyeglass,"  added  Lady  Charlotte, 
"  is,  of  course,  an  actor-manager." 

Neither  Miss  Laetitia  nor  her  elder  sister,  Miss 
Champneys,  was  quite  sure  what  an  actor-manager 
really  was.  They  did  know,  however,  that  dear  Char- 
lotte was  excelled  by  none  in  knowledge  of  the 
world. 

Lady  Charlotte,  as  is  the  way  with  Lady  Charlottes 
all  the  world  over,  as  the  erudite  inform  us,  put  up  her 
glasses.  She  proceeded  to  study  the  actor-manager, 
a  rare  species  of  wild  fowl  of  which  the  Close  of  ]Mar- 
chester  was  mercifully  free,  in  a  manner  which  can 
only  be  described  as  remorseless.     Yet  the  actor-man- 


242  ARAMINTA 

ager  appeared  to  suffer  no  embarrassment.  He 
serenely  changed  his  black-rimmed  monocle  from  his 
left  eye  to  his  right,  which,  if  not  quite  so  fashion- 
able as  the  other  one,  was  rather  perversely  endowed 
with  better  powers  of  vision. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


A    SOCIAL    TRIUMPH 


FOR  almost  the  space  of  a  minute  a  battle  royal 
was  waged  between  the  monocle  and  the  long- 
handled  folders.  All  present,  with  the  exception  of 
Miss  Perry,  who  was  not  in  the  habit  of  observing 
anything,  sat  in  breathless  silence  to  observe  the 
issue.  And  incredible  as  it  may  appear,  the  issue 
was  not  with  the  long-handled  folders. 

"  Capital !  "  murmured  the  victor,  to  nobody  in 
particular,  and  for  no  apparent  reason. 

Jim  Lascelles  was  one  of  those  unfortunate  and 
misguided  people  who  have  an  extraordinary  flair  for 
what  they  call  "  fun."     He  bent  over  to  his  mother. 

"  Don't  give  the  show  away  yet,"  said  he. 

"  You  are  too  cryptic,  my  son,  for  this  addle-pate." 

"  Don't  you  see,"  said  Jim.  "  They  think  our  dark 
horse  is  an  outsider.  Had  they  known  they  wouldn't 
have  come." 

Jim's  mother  smiled  her  little  half  smile  whose  fur- 
tive mischief  was  really  far  more  becoming  than  it 
ought  to  have  been. 

"  When  is  the  sale  of  work.  Lady  Charlotte?  "  she 
asked,  in  order  to  keep  the  pot  boiling. 

The  simple  question  was  received  by  the  three 
ladies  with  hauteur.     As  the  sale  of  work  began  on 

243 


244  ARAMINTA 

the  morrow,  and  Mrs.  Lascelles  had  promised  to  pre- 
side over  the  bran  tub  or  the  refreshment  stall  or  the 
rummage  counter,  she  was  not  quite  clear  which,  their 
demeanor  was  perhaps  not  unnatural. 

"  The  sale  of  work  begins  to-morrow  at  three 
o'clock,  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  Miss  Champneys,  coldly. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Jim's  mother.  "  How  stupid  of 
me!  I  knew  that  perfectly  well.  What  I  meant  to 
have  said  was,  which  is  the  day  upon  which  Lady 
Charlotte  will  perform  the  opening  ceremony.?  " 

"  The  jirst,  Mrs.  Lgiscelles,"  said  Miss  Champneys 
and  Miss  Laetitia,  speaking  as  one. 

"Of  course,"  said  Jim's  mother ;  and  involuntarily 
added  the  rider,  "  how  stupid  of  one !  "  The  Miss 
Champneys  were  matchless  in  putting  people  in  the 
wrong.  "  What  I  should  have  asked  was,  who  will 
perform  the  ceremony  on  the  second  day.?" 

"  The  wife  of  the  member,"  said  Miss  Champneys. 

"  And  on  the  third .?  "  asked  Jim's  mother,  rather 
obviously. 

"  Lady  Plunket,"  said  Miss  Laetitia. 

"  The  wife  of  the  brewer.?  "  asked  Jim. 

Jim's  question  provoked  a  further  display  of 
hauteur.  In  the  first  instance  it  was  an  act  of  pre- 
sumption for  a  young  man  like  Jim  to  have  ventured 
to  ask  a  question  at  all,  and  in  the  second  he  had 
contrived  to  ask  the  sort  of  question  that  stamped 
him  as  belonging  to  the  neighborhood. 

"  Lady  Plunket  was  a  Coxby,  I  believe,"  said  Miss 
Champneys.  She  assumed  an  air  of  devastation, 
which  was  singularly  becoming  to  one  whose  fore- 


A  SOCIAL  TRIUMPH  245 

bears,  according  to  their  own  oral  and  written  testi- 
mony, had  first  appeared  in  these  islands  in  the  train 
of  the  Conqueror. 

"Any  relation  to  the  parson  chap?"  inquired 
Cheriton,  casually. 

Lady  Charlotte  Greg  again  elected  to  do  battle. 

"  I  am  informed  that  Lady  Plunket  is  a  niece  of 
the  late  Archbishop  Coxby,"  said  she,  in  a  tone  and 
manner  which  for  two  decades  had  cowed  the  minor 
clergy  of  the  diocese. 

"Archbishop,  was  he?"  said  Cheriton.  "I  only 
knew  him  in  his  capacity  of  a  bore." 

Each  of  the  three  ladies  was  susceptible  of  a  little 
quiver  of  horror. 

"  Pray  where  did  you  meet  him  ?  "  demanded  Lady 
Charlotte  Greg,  with  dilated  nostril. 

"  In  the  House,"  said  Cheriton.  "  Shockin'  bore 
in  the  House." 

Lady  Charlotte  raised  her  glasses  with  studious 
care. 

"  The  domestic  life  of  Archbishop  Coxby  was  re- 
nowned for  its  simplicity,"  said  she. 

A  pause  surcharged  with  suppressed  emotion  fol- 
lowed, and  then  the  ludicrous  drawl  of  Miss  Perry 
was  heard  in  the  land. 

"  I  think  a  sale  of  work  is  too  sweet,"  said  that 
Featherbrain.  "  We  always  have  one  once  a  year  in 
the  parish  room  at  Slocum  Magna." 

The  Miss  Champneys  and  Lady  Charlotte  Greg 
received  this  announcement  with  a  frosty  disdain 
which,  sad  to  relate,  had  not  the  least  effect  upon  Miss 


246  ARAMINTA 

Perry.  The  fine  shades  of  social  feeling  did  not  per- 
colate to  that  obtuse  person. 

"  That  is  very  interesting,  my  dear  Miss  Goose," 
said  Cheriton,  in  his  most  mellifluous  manner ;  "  very 
interesting  indeed." 

"  We  raised  eight  pounds  two  and  ninepence  for 
the  organ  fund  in  1900,  at  Slocum  Magna,"  drawled 
Miss  Perry. 

"  Where,  pray,  is  Slocum  Magna.?  "  inquired  Lady 
Charlotte  Greg. 

Miss  Perry  had  learned  by  this  time  that  whenever 
Slocum  Magna  was  mentioned  in  the  presence  of 
London  people  the  question  was  inevitable.  However, 
before  she  could  take  steps  to  enlighten  Lady  Char- 
lotte Greg,  Cheriton  favored  her  with  a  paternal 
finger. 

"  Permit  me,  my  dear  Miss  Goose,"  said  he,  elabo- 
rately. "  Slocum  Magna,"  he  proceeded,  with  the 
weighty  air  of  one  who  is  no  stranger  to  the  Front 
Bench,  "  is  the  next  village  to  Widdiford." 

"  And  where,  pray,  is  Widdiford.?  "  inquired  Lady 
Charlotte  Greg. 

"  Widdiford,"  said  Cheriton,  meditatively,  "  Wid- 
diford is  the  place  where  the  Red  House  is  and  where 
they  haven't  quite  got  the  railway,  don't  you  know." 

"  But  it  is  only  three  miles  away,"  chimed  Miss 
Perry. 

The  pause  which  ensued  made  Jim's  mother  and 
the  Miss  Champneys  wonder  what  was  going  to  hap- 
pen. All  three  felt  a  little  uncomfortable.  On  the 
contrary.  Lady  Charlotte  Greg  felt  it  to  be  a  tribute 


A  SOCIAL  TRIUMPH  247 

to  the  overpowering  nature  of  her  personahty,  and 
was  gratified  accordingly.  Cheriton  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  his  lavender  trousers,  and  changed  the  glass 
from  the  right  eye  to  the  left  with  the  air  of  a  High 
Church  clergyman  pronouncing  the  benediction. 

"  Have  you  been  to  see  the  horses  at  the  Hippo- 
drome.? "  inquired  the  undefeated  Miss  Perry  of  Lady 
Charlotte  Greg. 

"  I  have  not,"  said  that  lady,  with  a  quiver  of  an 
evangelical  top-knot. 

"  Have  you  ?  "  inquired  Miss  Perry  of  the  Miss 
Champneys. 

"  My  sister  and  I  have  not,"  said  the  elder  Miss 
Champneys,  whose  top-knot,  although  not  quite  so 
evangelical  as  Lady  Charlotte's,  yet  contrived  to 
quiver  just  as  much. 

"  You  ought,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  irresistible 
friendliness.  "  They  play  bridge  and  fire  off 
guns  and  pretend  to  be  dead.  I  have  been  nine 
times." 

The  Miss  Champneys  conferred  in  discreet  under- 
tones with  Lady  Charlotte  Greg. 

"  Too  natural  to  be  an  actress,"  said  that  author- 
ity. "  Her  hair  and  skin  bear  inspection.  If  she 
were  not  so  painfully  overdressed  she  would  be  a  sin- 
gularly beautiful  girl." 

"  Can  you  place  that  curiously  artificial  person?  " 
asked  Miss  Laetitia,  who  had  a  passion  for  exact 
knowledge. 

"  An  actor-manager  unmistakably,"  said  Infalli- 
bility with  immense  decision. 


M8  ARAMINTA 

"  Is  he  the  father,  do  jou  suppose?  "  inquired  the 
insatiable  Miss  Laetitia. 

"  Dear  me,  no,  Laetitia.  Can  jou  not  see  that  that 
girl  is  by  way  of  being  a  lady  ?  " 

All  unwittingly  the  hostess  proceeded  to  deal  In- 
fallibility a  blow. 

"  Lady  Charlotte,"  said  she,  "  may  I  introduce 
Lord  Cheriton,  an  old  schoolfellow  of  my  husband's.'* 
Miss  Champneys — Lord  Cheriton.  Miss  Laetitia 
Champneys — Lord  Cheriton.  May  I  also  introduce 
Miss  Burden  and  Miss  Perry?  Lady  Charlotte  Greg 
— Miss  Champneys,  Miss  Laetitia  Champneys." 

During  the  bowings  and  the  counter  bowings  that 
ensued,  Jim  Lascelles  seized  the  opportunity  to  say  to 
his  mother — 

"  You  gave  the  dark  horse  away  too  soon,  senora. 
There  might  have  been  fun." 

"  If  you  wish  to  succeed  in  life,  my  son,"  his  mother 
admonished  him,  "  never  treat  the  peerage  flip- 
pantly." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  to-morrow  to  the  sale  of 
work,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  You  shall,  my  dear  Miss  Goose,"  said  Cheriton, 
"  because  I  feel  sure  that  your  papa  would  like  you 
to,  provided  that  we  have  Lady  Charlotte's  assurance 
that  there  will  be  no  harangue  from  Parson  Coxby's 
daughter." 

"  Lady  Plunket  does  not  appear  until  Friday," 
said  Lady  Charlotte,  by  no  means  ungraciously,  "  and 
I  only  intend  to  say  a  few  words  myself." 

The  Miss  Champneys  were  not  overawed  by  Lord 


A  SOCIAL  TRIUMPH  249 

Cheriton  because  thej  were  gentlewomen  born,  but 
neither  they  nor  the  wife  of  the  Bishop  of  Marchester 
had  quite  so  much  condescension  as  when  they  entered 
the  httle  Balham  sitting-room.  It  is  trivial  to  dwell 
on  these  things.  Self-respecting  people  really  don't 
notice  them — at  least,  they  make  it  a  point  of  honor 
to  appear  not  to  do  so.  But  there  are  cynics  in  the 
world  who  like  to  lay  stress  upon  them.  Not  the  wife 
of  the  Bishop  of  Marchester  alone,  but  the  Miss 
Champneys  also  began  to  thaw  perceptibly.  And 
presently,  for  the  first  occasion  during  their  inter- 
course. Miss  Laetitia  went  the  length  of  addressing 
Jim's  mother  as  "  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles." 

It  was  a  really  great  afternoon  for  Jim's  mother. 
The  Miss  Champneys  had  never  exhibited  themselves 
in  such  an  agreeable  light.  Lady  Charlotte  Greg 
also  softened  the  first  impression  she  had  created,  and 
contrived  to  be  quite  agreeable  too.  It  was  Miss  Bur- 
den who  asked  of  malice  prepense  whether  they  had 
seen  Mr.  Lascelles'  picture  at  the  Royal  Academy. 
They  had  not,  these  ladies  assured  Miss  Burden,  but 
they  would  make  a  point  of  going  specially  to  Bur- 
hngton  House  to  do  so.  It  was  Lord  Cheriton,  with 
a  very  direct  look  at  Jim's  mother,  who  mentioned 
Mr.  Lascelles'  undoubted  genius. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Laetitia,  "  Mr.  Lascelles 
must  have  genius  if  he  exhibits  at  the  Royal 
Academy." 

"  It  doesn't  necessarily  follow,  Laetitia,"  said  Lady 
Charlotte  Greg,  who  felt  with  justice  that  Miss 
Laetitia  was  impinging  upon  her  prerogative  of  dis- 


250  ARAMINTA 

pensing  universal  information.  "  Before  now  I  have 
known  quite  second-rate  people  exhibit  at  the  Royal 
Academy." 

"  Have  you,  though.?  "  said  Cheriton.  "  That  is 
interesting." 

"  There  is  Mottrom,"  said  Lady  Charlotte  Greg. 
"  One  finds  his  pictures  there  continually.  Nothing 
will  convince  me  that  Mottrom  is  first  rate.  One  feels 
one  ought  really  to  draw  the  line  at  the  music  of 
Wagner  and  the  pictures  of  Mottrom." 

"  Capital !  "  said  Cheriton. 

The  voice  of  Miss  Perry  was  heard  again  in  the 
land. 

"  Do  you  like  the  pictures  of  Joseph  Wright  of 
Derby.''  "  inquired  that  art  critic. 

Jim's  mother  looked  at  Lord  Cheriton,  and  Lord 
Cheriton  looked  at  Jim's  mother  with  great  demure- 
ness. 

"  A  police  constable,  was  he  not  ?  "  said  Lady 
Charlotte  Greg. 

"  Lord  Cheriton  knows,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Very  probably,"  said  that  authority,  with  the  air 
of  one  to  whom  a  great  truth  has  presented  itself  un- 
expectedly. "  To  be  sure,  what  could  be  more  natural 
than  Police  Constable  Joseph  Wright  of  Derby  ?  " 

Jim  Lascelles  began  to  grow  restless,  as  sensitive 
souls  are  apt  to  do  when  amateurs  begin  to  talk 
"  shop  "  for  their  benefit.  And  in  his  capacity  of  a 
common-sense  young  Englishman  of  athletic  tastes, 
he  felt  that  to  call  a  man  a  genius  was  much  the 
same  as  kicking  him.     Of  course  mothers  are  privi- 


A  SOCIAL  TRIUMPH  251 

leged.  In  self-defense,  however,  Jim  began  to  carry 
the  war  into  the  enemy's  country. 

"  Does  anybody  object  to  Chopin?"  said  he. 

Nobody  did. 

"  Then  you  must  play  your  Httle  piece,  my  dear," 
said  Jim,  with  a  cool  air  of  triumph. 

Jim's  mother  protested,  of  course ;  and  of  course 
her  six  callers  were  unanimous  in  their  insistence. 
Jim  opened  the  little  rosewood  piano,  and  arranged 
the  music-stool  with  a  dual  sense  of  satisfaction.  Not 
only  had  he  turned  the  tables  effectually,  but  also  he 
was  genuinely  proud  of  his  mother's  playing. 

Jim  had  reason  to  be  proud  of  it.  Truth  to  tell, 
she  played  a  waltz  about  as  w^ell  as  it  could  be  played 
by  an  amateur  on  a  cottage  piano  in  a  small  back 
sitting-room.  The  ladies,  with  the  exception  of  Miss 
Perry,  rewarded  her  with  a  murmur  of  thanks.  Miss 
Perry  was  not  content  with  anything  less  than  vigor- 
ous applause.  Cheriton,  on  the  contrary,  was 
strangely  silent. 

"  She  talks  about  me,"  said  Jim,  triumphantly, 
"  so  I  shall  now  talk  about  her.  Pachmann  is  the 
only  person  in  Europe  who  knows  more  about  Chopin 
than  she  does." 

"  I  know  something  about  Chopin  too,"  said 
Cheriton. 

As  he  spoke  all  his  artifice  seemed  to  fall  away 
from  him  in  the  oddest  manner.  It  struck  Jim  all  at 
once  that  his  face  was  old  and  worn  and  tired. 

"  You  will  hardly  believe,"  said  Cheriton,  in  an 
altered  voice,  "  where  I  first  heard  that.    It  was  at  a 


252  ARAMINTA 

little  house  in  the  Rue  Saint  Antoine.  George  Sand 
was  living  in  it  at  that  time,  and  Chopin  brought  it 
there  and  played  it  to  us  the  evening  he  composed  it. 
They  were  all  there — De  Musset,  Flaubert,  Edmond 
de  Goncourt,  and  that  weird  fellow " 

"  Theophile  Gautier,"  said  Jim's  mother. 

"  Yes,  Gautier.     Those  were  great  days." 

Cheriton  slov,ly  uncrossed  his  lavender  trousers, 
and  rose  with  a  little  sigh.  He  closed  the  lid  of  the 
rosewood  piano  reverently. 

"  He  was  such  a  gentle  fellow,"  he  said  quaintly. 
''  Such  a  gentle  fellow." 

The  eyes  of  Jim's  mother  looked  strangely  bright. 

"  And  the  Dudevant  ?  "  said  she,  in  a  soft  tone. 
''  Was  she — was  she  an  ogress  ?  " 

"  No ;  merely  a  child  of  nature.  They  were  all 
children  of  nature.     That  man  had  a  soul." 

It  struck  all,  with  the  exception  of  Miss  Perry,  as 
quite  odd  that  the  old  exquisite  should  replace  very 
carefully  the  music-stool  under  the  little  rosewood 
piano.  There  was  something  incongruous  about  the 
action. 

"  He  was  such  a  gentle  fellow,"  he  said. 

When  Cheriton  turned  his  tall  and  corseted  form 
away  from  the  piano,  Jim's  mother  observed  that 
his  eyes  looked  curiously  hollow  and  faded,  and  that, 
for  all  their  carmine,  his  cheeks  looked  old  and  worn. 
He  took  Jim  by  the  arm  in  his  paternal  manner. 

"  Come,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  "  take  us  to  see 
your  masterpiece." 

"  One  moment,"  said  Jim,  disengaging  his  arm. 


A  SOCIAL   TRIUMPH  253 

He  walked  to  the  chimney-piece,  and  solemnly  took 
up  the  plate  of  cream  buns.  With  these  in  his  hand 
he  led  the  way  through  the  open  French  window  to 
the  wooden  erection  in  the  garden.  Cheriton  brought 
up  the  rear  of  the  procession,  shepherding  the  six 
ladies  with  his  usual  air  of  excessive  gallantry. 

The  painting-room  contained  merely  a  rug  for  the 
floor,  a  large  and  comfortable  sofa  with  cushions,  and 
at  the  far  end,  in  a  sumptuous  light,  the  single  canvas 
three  parts  complete.  A  dozen  studies  of  the  great 
subject  and  minor  works  had  been  tidied  away. 

The  Miss  Champneys  gave  vent  to  their  admira- 
tion. 

"  But  surely,"  said  Lady  Charlotte  Greg,  making 
great  play  with  her  glasses — "  but  surely  this  is  a 
very  fine  picture." 

"  I  am  beginning  to  think  so,"  said  Cheriton,  com- 
placently. 

"  I  have  thought  so  from  the  first,"  said  the  mother 
of  the  artist. 

"  I  also,  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  Miss  Burden. 

"  I  wish  I  could  have  worn  my  fancy  frock,"  said 
Miss  Perry,  without  any  suggestion  of  vanity.  "  But 
it  is  not  for  out  of  doors." 

"  The  frock  does  not  trouble  me,"  said  Jim.  "  It 
is  that  incredible  hat  that  I  am  exercised  about." 

"  Incredible  hat.?  "  said  Lady  Charlotte  Greg. 

"  She  wear-eth  an  in-cred-ible  hat,"  said  Jim. 

Without  preface  or  apology  Miss  Perry  seated 
herself  in  the  center  of  the  sofa  and  assumed  her 
pose. 


254  ARAMINTA 

"  A  singularly  beautiful  sitter,"  said  Lady  Char- 
lotte Greg,  "  and  singularl}^  placable." 

With  an  ostentation  that  in  the  circumstances  was 
remarkable,  Jim  Lascelles  placed  the  plate  of  cream 
buns  on  a  small  table  at  a  respectful  distance  from 
the  sofa. 

"  I  must  now,"  said  Jim,  courteously,  "  request  the 
public  to  withdraw." 

"  Rembrandt  himself  could  not  have  bettered  it," 
said  Cheriton,  as  he  stood  by  the  door  to  shep- 
herd into  the  garden  five  irresponsible  creatures 
who  were  babbling  incoherent  criticism  of  the  fine 
arts. 

By  the  time  Miss  Perry  returned  to  the  little  sit- 
ting-room she  had  duly  earned,  received,  and  assimi- 
lated two  cream  buns,  Buszard's  large  size.  For  her 
the  sitting  had  been  a  decided  success,  and  Jim  Las- 
celles was  inclined  to  view  it  in  that  light  also.  Al- 
ready he  had  put  an  immense  amount  of  labor  into 
the  picture,  and  he  was  now  beginning  to  feel  that 
the  end  was  in  sight.  And  looking  at  it  as  it  grew, 
touching  and  retouching  it  continually,  learning  to 
treat  every  detail  with  a  boldness  and  a  delicacy  of 
which  he  had  hardly  dared  to  believe  himself  to  be 
capable,  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  this  work  stood 
for  growth. 

Already  he  knew  himself  to  be  artistically  thrice 
the  stature  of  when  it  was  begun.  Something  had 
been  born  in  him.  It  was  the  culmination  of  seven 
years'  single-minded  and  assiduous  labor.  Indeed, 
Jim  Lascelles  was  almost  beginning  to  realize  that 


A  SOCIAL  TRIUMPH  255 

some  fine  morning  he  might  wake  to  find  himself 
famous. 

When  sitter  and  painter  returned  to  the  house 
Cheriton  was  discovered  reading  "  La  Chartreuse  de 
Parme  "  aloud  to  Miss  Burden  and  Jim's  mother. 

"  Now  we  must  fly,"  said  Miss  Burden.  "  I  tremble 
to  think  of  what  will  happen." 

"  I  shall  make  what  apologies  I  can  for  you,"  said 
Cheriton.  "  I  suppose  we  shall  have  to  plead  guilty 
to  finding  the  polo  at  Hurlingham  very  absorbing." 

An  invitation  to  partake  of  pot-luck  was  declined 
reluctantly.  Miss  Burden  was  genuinely  alarmed. 
However,  the  three  distinguished  visitors  left  the 
Acacias  with  the  request  that  they  might  come  again. 


CHAPTER  XX 

MISS  PERRY   HAS   HER  PALM   CROSSED   WITH  SILVER 

MISS  BURDEN  was  subjected  to  severe  treat- 
ment on  her  return  to  Hill  Street.  She  was 
forbidden  to  go  to  Hurlingham  again  during  the 
rest  of  the  season.  The  faithful  gentlewoman  felt 
very  guilty.  She  bent  her  head  before  the  torrent  of 
abuse,  which,  wholly  contrary  to  the  doctor's  orders, 
was  showered  upon  her.  All  the  same.  Miss  Burden 
felt  herself  to  be  privy  to  a  romance.  The  visit  to 
Balham  comprised  elements  which  compensated  her 
for  the  persecution  to  which  she  was  subjected. 

Sir  Wotherspoon  Ogle,  old  Lady  Crewkerne's 
medical  adviser,  was  strongly  of  opinion  that  abuse 
is  not  good  for  larjaigitis.  But,  as  we  already  know, 
the  arbitrary  patient  of  that  distinguished  physician 
not  only  despised  the  clergy,  but  also  had  a  poor 
opinion  of  the  medical  profession. 

"  Lady  Crewkerne,"  Sir  Wotherspoon  had  said, 
"  do  not  speak  for  three  days." 

"  Rubbish ! "  said  that  old  woman,  in  a  husky 
wheeze. 

"  I  will  not  answer  for  the  consequences,"  said  Sir 
Wotherspoon. 

"  Answer  for  the  consequences,  forsooth !  "  said  the 
formidable  patient.     "  In  my  opinion  it  is  time  the 

256 


MISS  PERRY  HAS  HE?  PALM  CROSSED    257 

law  was  amended.  The  medical  profession  ought  to 
be  more  amenable  to  it." 

On  the  following  morning  the  old  lady  was  rather 
worse. 

Nevertheless  George  Betterton  called  upon  her  for 
the  second  time  during  her  illness,  and  was  received 
in  audience  within  the  sanctity  of  her  chamber.  Yet 
this  also  was  not  in  accordance  with  the  advice  of 
those  who  had  charge  of  her  case. 

Cheriton  called  at  half-past  twelve  the  same  morn- 
ing. To  him,  however,  access  to  the  vicinity  of  the 
four-poster  was  denied.  When  he  learned  that 
George  Betterton  had  been  thus  favored  for  half  an 
hour  past  he  assumed  a  grave  demeanor. 

"  What  is  that  man  after?  "  he  said  to  Miss  Bur- 
den, mistrustfully.  "  No  good,  I  am  afraid.  Y''es- 
terday  it  was  the  same.  They  spent  an  hour  together 
as  thick  as  thieves.  And  yet  Caroline  is  unable  to 
see  her  oldest  friend,  a  disinterested  adviser  and  sin- 
cere well-wisher." 

Miss  Burden  could  throw  no  light  upon  the 
mystery. 

•'  How  is  she  this  morning.?  "  Cheriton  inquired. 

"  Sir  Wotherspoon  Ogle  does  not  think  at  all  well 
of  her." 

"  Naturally." 

"  The  mind  is  so  active,"  said  Miss  Burden. 

"  You  mean  her  tongue?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  active  too,"  said  Miss  Burden,  rather 
dolefully. 

"  It  is  rather  late  in  the  day  for  her  to  learn  to 


258  ARAMINTA 

bridle  it.  But  if  she  won't,  so  much  the  worse  for 
her." 

"  Sir  Wotherspoon  finds  her  a  rather  trying 
patient,  I  am  afraid." 

"  If  he  does  not,"  said  Cheriton,  "  he  is  either  less 
than  human  or  he  is  more." 

Cheriton  afforded  Miss  Burden  and  Miss  Perry  the 
privilege  of  his  society  at  luncheon.  He  proposed 
that  they  should  spend  the  afternoon  at  the  sale  of 
work  in  aid  of  Saint  Agatha's,  Balham.  Miss  Perry 
was  charmed  with  the  idea.  Miss  Burden  shared  her 
delight,  yet  doubted  sorely  whether  her  services  could 
be  dispensed  vrith.  However,  with  the  exercise  of  a 
little  diplomacy,  she  learned  that  they  could,  as  not 
only  was  the  Duke  of  Brancaster  returning  at  four 
o'clock,  but  her  ladyship's  lawyer  also. 

"  Her  lawyer !  "  exclaimed  Cheriton.  "  What  the 
dooce  does  she  want  with  him?  " 

My  lord  seemed  not  a  little  perturbed  by  the  com- 
ing of  that  ominous  personage. 

"  I  wonder  if  that  old  woman  is  capable  of  playing 
me  a  trick  .^^  "  he  mused. 

His  speculations  upon  this  subject  were  many  on 
his  way  to  the  sale  of  work  at  Balham.  Considered 
in  conjunction  with  the  assiduity  of  George  Better- 
ton,  the  coming  of  the  lawyer  was  unquestionably  a 
sinister  omen. 

At  the  sale  of  work,  however,  Cheriton  presented 
no  sign  of  either  mental  or  moral  perturbation.  The 
lavender  trousers  had  been  exchanged  for  an  art 
shade  of  gray.    The  tie-pin  had  a  pearl  in  it  instead 


MISS  PERRY  HAS  HEP   PALM  CROSSED    259 

of  a  turquoise;  the  waistcoat,  instead  of  presenting 
a  baffling  and  complex  harmony  in  lilac,  was  of  plain 
white  pique ;  and,  in  lieu  of  a  gold-headed  cane,  he 
carried  the  famous  ivory-handled  umbrella,  which 
had  been  repaired  with  such  exemplary  skill  that  it 
betrayed  no  token  of  the  recent  catastrophe  at  Saint 
Sepulchre's. 

All  that  was  best  in  the  life  of  Balham  and  its 
environs  was  gathered  at  the  sale  of  work  in  aid  of 
Saint  Agatha's.  First  and  foremost  was  the  Rector, 
the  Reverend  John  Overdene  Cummings,  a  man  whom 
all  the  world  delighted  to  honor,  not  for  his  calling 
only,  but  also  for  himself.  His  weaknesses  were  so 
few  that  they  really  do  not  call  for  mention.  And 
among  his  numerous  merits,  perhaps  that  which  en- 
deared him  most  to  all  that  was  best  in  the  life  of 
Balham,  was  his  almost  exaggerated  esteem  for  what 
he  called  "  the  right  people."  It  was  known  by  the 
well-informed  that  in  the  first  instance  it  was  due  en- 
tirely to  the  Reverend  John  Overdene  Cummings  that 
the  IMiss  Champneys  had  prevailed  upon  their  friend 
Lady  Charlotte  Greg,  to  perform  the  opening  cere- 
mony. 

Lady  Charlotte  Greg  had  just  had  great  pleasure 
in  declaring  the  sale  of  work  open,  when  sometliing 
in  the  nature  of  a  sensation  was  caused  by  the  arrival 
of  the  wonderful  Miss  Perry  and  her  attendant  min- 
isters. The  Assembly  Rooms  had  been  transformed 
into  a  Sicilian  village.  They  were  thronged  with  the 
youth,  beauty,  and  fashion  of  the  district,  and  also 
with  the  gay  and  brilliant  costumes  of  the  peasantry 


\ 


260  ARAMINTA 

of  the  sunny  south.  But  there  was  nothing  in  that 
brilliant  gathering  to  compare  with  the  blue-eyed 
and  yellow-haired  young  Amazon,  hatted  and  gowned 
a  la  Gainsborough.  Miss  Burden  felt  there  was  not ; 
and  she,  in  her  modest  gown  with  lilac  trimming,  was 
not  without  her  merit,  for  she  too  was  tall,  distin- 
guished of  feature,  and  her  figure  was  excellent.  As 
for  Cheriton,  with  his  glass  stuck  with  a  rather 
humorous  insolence  in  his  left  eye,  he  knew  there  was 
nothing,  not  in  Balham  only,  but  in  the  whole  of  Lon- 
don, that  season  to  compare  with  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne's  niece.  He  was  a  proud  man,  and  he  looked 
it  as,  with  pardonable  ostentation,  he  cleared  a  pas- 
sage for  his  escort  down  the  precise  center  of  the 
throng. 

Jim's  mother  was  thrilled  by  the  apparition  of  the 
wonderful  Miss  Perry.  She  was  there  to  preside  over 
the  refreshment  stall.  It  was  small  blame  to  Jim 
that  he  had  given  up  his  days  and  nights  to  dreams 
of  such  magnificence.  And  Jim  himself,  who  had  ac- 
companied his  mother  to  the  sale  of  work,  more,  it  is 
to  be  feared,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  the  "  incredible  " 
hat  in  public,  than  for  any  deep  interest  in  the  wel- 
fare of  Saint  Agatha's,  was  possessed  by  a  strange 
excitement  as  he  gazed. 

"  What  an  air  the  creature  has ! "  his  mother 
whispered  to  him.  "  I  never  saw  anything  so  regal. 
She  moves  like  a  queen  among  her  subjects.  And 
yet  the  Goose,  under  her  feathers,  hasn't  the  ghost 
of  an  idea  about  anything  in  earth  or  heaven  or  in 
Slocum  Magna." 


MISS  PERRY  HAS  HER  PALM  CROSSED    261 

"  You  forget  Joseph  Wright  of  Derby,  my  dear." 

"  The  ridiculous  creature !  "  laughed  Jim's  mother. 

In  the  meantime  the  progress  down  the  center  of 
the  Sicilian  village  was  almost  royal.  The  throng 
yielded  on  all  sides.  A  wave  of  respect,  amounting 
almost  to  awe,  seemed  to  arise  and  pervade  every- 
thing. Indeed,  royalty  was  mentioned.  For  exam- 
ple, the  Rector,  with  his  quick  eye  and  his  sure  in- 
stinct, was  aroused  immediately. 

"  Dear  me,"  he  said  to  Miss  Laetitia  Champneys 
in  exultant  tones,  "  I  really  believe  it  must  be  the 
Grand  Duchess  Olga  Romanoff." 

It  appeared  that,  according  to  well-informed 
journals,  a  tall  and  splendid  person  answering  to 
that  name  and  description  was  then  in  London,  who 
was  engaged  continuously  in  charitable  endeavors. 

"  Oh  no,  Mr.  Rector,"  said  Miss  Laetitia, 
promptly ;  "  they  are  friends  of  ours." 

A  kind  of  dais  had  been  erected  at  the  end  of  the 
Sicilian  village  for  the  accommodation  of  the  friends 
of  the  Rector  and  other  grandees.  The  distinguished 
visitors,  although  they  had  never  seen  the  Rector  be- 
fore and  had  no  locus  standi  whatever  as  far  as  Saint 
Agatha's  was  concerned,  took  a  bee-line  to  the  dais, 
under  the  direction  of  Lord  Cheriton.  But  the  fact 
is  well  known  that  a  peer  of  the  realm  feels  it  his 
duty  to  make  straight  for  a  platform  whenever  and 
wherever  he  sees  one. 

The  Miss  Champneys,  whose  manner  in  public  was 
even  more  impressive  than  it  was  in  private,  shook 
hands  with  Lord  Cheriton  in  most  stately  fashion. 


262  ARAMINTA 

Lady  Charlotte's  greeting  was  thought  by  close 
observers  to  be  perhaps  less  elaborate  in  style, 
but  that  she  shook  hands  at  a  more  fashionable 
angle. 

"  Introduce  me,"  said  the  Rector  to  Miss  Laetitia. 

Cheriton  prided  himself  upon  being  all  things  to 
all  men.  His  manner  with  the  Church  was  agreeably 
distinct  from  what  it  was  with  Art  or  Letters,  or 
Law,  or  the  Army,  or  Sport,  or  Politics. 

"  Congratulate  you,  Mr.  Rector,  on  the  success  of 
your  bazaar,"  he  said  sonorously.  "  Admirable  hall 
for  the  purpose.  To  my  mind  nothing  is  more  pictur- 
esque than  a  Sicilian  village.  The  costumes  are  so 
rich." 

The  Rector  of  Saint  Agatha's,  one  of  those  solemn 
men  who  don't  smile  easily,  was  seen  to  beam  in  a 
gratified  manner. 

Miss  Perry  enjoyed  herself  immensely.  The  first 
thing  she  did  was  to  greet  Jim's  mother  w^ith  effusion, 
and  also  Jim.  The  latter,  who  was  assiduously  culti- 
vating the  commercial  instinct,  informed  his  mother 
that  she  was  sure  of  one  important  customer. 

"  What  awfully  nice  cakes  you  have !  "  said  Miss 
Perry. 

She  had  a  small  pink  one  to  inaugurate  the  re- 
freshment stall.  Promising  to  return  anon,  she  then 
made  a  tour  of  the  Sicilian  village.  In  the  fancy 
bazaar,  presided  over  by  Mrs.  and  the  Misses  Hob- 
son,  she  made  her  second  purchase. 

"  Those  bed-socks  are  too  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry. 
"  I  should  like  to  buy  them  for  dearest  papa,  because 


MISS  PERRY  HAS  HER  PALM  CROSSED    263 

his  feet  are  always  so  cold  In  the  winter.  How  much 
are  they  ?  " 

"  One  guinea,"  said  Miss  Hermla  Hobson. 

"  You  can  get  them  cheaper  than  that  at  Slocum 
Magna,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  Everything  at  this  stall  Is  one  guinea,"  said  Miss 
Hermia  Hobson,  "  except  the  antimacassars,  and  they 
are  five,  because  they  were  out  In  India  during  the 
Mutiny." 

"  Were  they  Indeed ! "  said  Cherlton,  taking  up  a 
very  fragile  and  faded  article ;  "  during  the  Mutiny. 
That  Is  most  Interesting." 

"  Don't  touch  them,  please,"  said  Miss  Hermla 
Hobson.     "  They  might  easily  come  to  pieces." 

"  I  think  dearest  papa  would  rather  have  the  bed- 
socks,"  said  Miss  Perry.     "  They  are  too  sweet." 

Cherlton  gallantly  disbursed  the  sum  of  one  guinea. 

Miss  Perry's  tour  of  the  Sicilian  village  resulted 
in  the  acquisition  of  a  rag-basket  of  a  new  and  orig- 
inal pattern,  which  it  appeared  that  Muffin  had  al- 
ways wanted ;  a  pocket-knife  for  Dickie ;  a  fountain- 
pen  for  Charley ;  an  album  for  Milly ;  a  piece  of  lace 
for  Polly ;  and  a  box  of  soldiers  for  the  small  son  of 
Mrs.  Crick  who  kept  the  post-office  at  Slocum  Magna. 
A  copy  of  "  Persuasion  "  was  purchased  for  Miss 
Burden,  by  the  advice  of  Lord  Cherlton ;  and  a  copy 
of  "  Law's  Serious  Call  "  for  Aunt  Caroline,  also  by 
the  advice  of  that  nobleman.  He  himself  was  con- 
tent with  an  orchid,  which  was  fixed  In  his  button- 
hole by  Miss  Laetitia  Champneys,  Miss  Burden  hold- 
ing the  pin.    Miss  Perry  had  great  difficulty  in  recon- 


264  ARAMINTA 

ciling  the  respective  claims  of  a  rabbit,  that  was  able 
to  roll  its  eyes  and  move  its  ears,  and  a  box  of 
sweetmeats.  Eventually  she  decided  in  favor  of  the 
latter.  All  the  same,  she  felt  that  the  former  would 
undoubtedly  have  appealed  to  Tobias.  But  it  might 
have  a  tendency  to  make  him  bloodthirsty. 

Afternoon  tea  at  Mrs.  Lascelles'  stall,  to  the  strains 
of  Chicane's  Orchestral  Cossacks,  who  had  been  spe- 
cially engaged  to  appear  in  Sicily,  was  a  delightful 
function.  The  Rector,  the  Rectoress,  the  Miss 
Champneys,  and  Lady  Charlotte  Greg  all  came  to- 
gether to  the  refreshment  stall  to  partake  of  this 
stimulating  and  delightful  beverage.  The  verger  of 
Saint  Agatha's  railed  off  a  special  table  with  a  cord 
to  keep  the  crowd  from  encroaching.  It  seemed  that 
the  Rector's  theory  of  the  Grand  Duchess  had  been 
overheard,  and  had  immediately  become  rife  with  the 
general  public.  By  now  it  had  taken  such  a  hold 
that  Her  Yellow-haired  Magnificence  in  the  Gains- 
borough hat  was  said  to  be  the  niece  of  the  Czar. 

Cheriton  had  a  pleasing  sense  of  uncertainty  as  to 
whether  the  curiosity  of  the  public  was  due  to  the  im- 
perious challenge  of  female  beauty,  or  to  the  appear- 
ance and  attainments  of  the  fourth  earl  of  that 
name.  Being  a  very  vain  man,  he  was  not  disinclined 
to  believe  that  it  was  the  latter;  therefore  he  sat  in 
the  enclosure  sipping  his  tea  with  a  superb  air,  and 
preening  his  plumage  like  a  venerable  cockatoo. 

"  He  wears  a  wig !  "  a  member  of  the  public  could 
be  heard  to  say  quite  distinctly. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  a  second  member,  with  an  air  of 


MISS  PERRY  HAS  HER  PALM  CROSSED    265 

information.  "  The  Romanoffs  are  always  short  of 
hair.     The  late  Czar  was  as  bald  as  an  egg.^^ 

After  doing  frank  and  impartial  justice  to  the  tea 
and  confectionery,  Miss  Perry  made  her  way  to  the 
Gypsy's  Tent  to  have  her  palm  crossed  with  silver. 

"  I  see  a  tall  dark  man,"  said  the  gypsy. 

"  Yes,"  said  Cheriton,  "  there  is  no  doubt  about 
him.  But  what  about  a  short  bald  fellow,  with  a  tend- 
ency to  apoplexy  and  a  face  as  red  as  a  turkey's?  " 

"  I  don't  see  him  at  present,"  said  the  gypsy. 

"  Are  you  sure?  "  said  Cheriton. 

"  I  see  a  tall  fair  man  who  is  young  and  hand- 
some," said  the  gypsy.  Jim  Lascelles  had  just  en- 
tered the  tent  with  Miss  Burden.  "  And  I  see  a  tall 
dark  woman,  and,  yes,  a  short  fair  man,  who  is  rich 
and  rather  stout,  begins  to  emerge.  He  is  old,  and 
he  appears  to  have  been  twice  married " 

"  Isn't  it  wonderful?  "  said  Miss  Burden,  in  a  voice 
of  awe. 

"  Awful  rot !  "  said  Jim  Lascelles. 

"  Don't  forget  the  tall  dark  fellow,"  said  Cheriton. 

"  Yes — no — yes,"  said  the  gypsy ;  "  and  the  tall 
dark  man,  and  the  tall  fair  man,  and  the  short  stout 
man — really,  I  don't  remember  reading  a  hand  so 
complex  as  this." 

"  It  was  a  tall  fair  man  at  Widdiford,"  said  Miss 
Perry. 

The  gypsy  discarded  the  hand  of  Miss  Perry  with 
a  gesture  of  petulance. 

"  That  has  spoiled  everything,"  said  she. 

"  We   were    married    at    Widdiford,"    said    Miss 


266  ARAMINTA 

Perry,  "  and  we  lived  happily  ever  afterwards,  and 
we  only  paid  a  shilling." 

"  I  am  afraid  shilling  fortunes  are  always  untrust- 
worthy," said  Cheriton.  "  But  I  should  like  a  little 
more  information  about  that  red-faced,  apoplectic 
fellow." 

"  They  might  very  easily  marry,"  said  the  gypsy, 
in  a  sinister  manner. 

"  Awful  rot !  "  muttered  Jim. 

Cheriton  appeared  to  think  that  the  gypsy  was 
confusing  the  short  fellow  with  the  tall  dark  one. 

The  hand  of  Miss  Burden  was  found  to  be  less 
complex.  In  her  future  there  was  only  one  man,  and 
he  was  tall  and  dark. 

"  I  think  it  is  wonderful,"  said  Miss  Burden,  with 
a  charming  vibration  in  her  voice. 

The  exigencies  of  the  case  rendered  an  early  re- 
turn to  Hill  Street  necessary.  Hurlingham  was  al- 
ready forbidden  for  the  remainder  of  the  season.  It 
would  not  do,  declared  Cheriton,  for  Ranelagh  to  be 
prohibited  as  well.  Otherwise  they  would  be  com- 
pelled to  restrict  themselves  to  Burlington  House,  to 
Lord's,  and  the  Circus. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HIGH    DIPLOMACY 

OLD  Lady  Crewkerne's  interview  with  her  legal 
adviser  did  her  no  harm.  Indeed  she  seemed 
to  sleep  the  more  soundly  for  it.  All  the  same  her 
condition  continued  to  demand  much  skill  and  atten- 
tion upon  the  part  of  Sir  Wotherspoon  Ogle.  How- 
ever, the  diligence  of  that  eminent  physician  did  not 
go  without  its  reward.  Whatever  might  be  the  actual 
condition  of  the  patient's  throat,  the  vocal  cords 
seemed  to  grow  decidedly  stronger,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  she  was  rigidly  forbidden  to  use  them. 

"  On  no  account.  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  Sir 
Wotherspoon  Ogle,  very  gravely  indeed,  "  and  upon 
no  consideration  must  you  have  recourse  to  your 
voice." 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  am  fool  enough  to  say  noth- 
ing? "  said  the  old  woman,  like  a  hoarse  old  raven. 
"  If  I  did,  you  would  soon  have  the  lid  on  my  coffin." 

Sir  Wotherspoon  Ogle  was  shocked. 

Cheriton  made  three  applications  for  admission  to 
the  presence,  yet  met  with  refusal  on  each  occasion. 
On  the  other  hand,  his  rival,  George  Betterton,  con- 
tinued in  high  favor.  However,  on  the  occasion  of 
the  fourth  attempt,  a  Sunday  morning,  he  obtained 

the  entree, 

267 


268  ARAMINTA 

The  occupant  of  the  four-poster,  supported  by 
pillows,  and  embellished  by  the  head-dress  and  the 
famous  Indian  shawl,  looked,  in  the  opinion  of  her 
visitor,  quite  her  old  self.  The  eyes  glittered  as 
fiercely  and  as  shrewdly  as  of  yore ;  the  curve  of  the 
nose  was  just  as  grim  and  hawklike  as  ever;  while 
as  for  the  resolute  jaw  and  the  thin-lipped,  tightly 
drawn  mouth,  enough  hard  sarcasm  and  unflinching 
force  of  character  lurked  about  it  to  quell  the  vast 
majority  of  human  kind. 

Cheriton  was  a  fop  and  fribble,  as  all  the  world 
knew.  Nevertheless,  he  belonged  to  that  honorable 
company  that  is  not  abashed  easily.  He  greeted  the 
formidable  occupant  of  the  four-poster  v/ith  a  robust- 
ness of  demeanor  that  served  him  well.  Had  he  bated 
so  much  as  an  eyelid,  or  betrayed  the  least  disposi- 
tion to  flinch,  he  would  have  received  very  short  shrift 
this  morning.  For  whatever  might  be  Sir  Wother- 
spoon  Ogle's  opinion  in  regard  to  that  complex  mech- 
anism that  was  buttoned  into  the  linen  band  of  the 
old  lady's  nightgown,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that, 
considered  as  a  whole,  the  aged  frame  had  gained 
alarmingly  in  bodily  vigor  by  a  week's  detention  with- 
in the  precincts  of  the  four-poster. 

"  How  are  you,  Caroline  ?  "  said  Cheriton,  with 
musical  expansiveness. 

"  Worth  a  good  many  dead  ones  at  present,"  said 
the  old  lady,  with  no  more  music  than  a  raven. 

"  So  I  perceive,"  said  her  visitor,  with  a  little  sigh. 

Upon  the  counterpane  lay  "  Law's  Serious  Call." 
Cheriton  took  it  up  and  ran  his  fingers  thoughtfully 


HIGH  DIP:.0MACY  269 

through  the  leaves.  On  the  flyleaf  in  extremely  large 
and  decidedly  juvenile  characters  was  the  inscription, 
''  To  dearest  Aunt  Caroline,  with  Fondest  Love  from 
her  Affectionate  Niece,  Araminta." 

"  Caroline,"  said  her  visitor,  "  you  are  an  extremely 
fortunate  woman  to  have  a  niece  who  takes  such  a 
practical  interest  in  your  spiritual  well-being,  par- 
ticularly at  a  time  when  the  state  of  your  health  tends 
to  make  the  future  increasingly  speculative." 

The  occupant  of  the  four-poster  poised  her  chin 
in  a  manner  that  can  only  be  described  as  the  incarna- 
tion of  truculence.  The  fierce  eyes  flashed  from  under 
their  bushy  canopy  with  all  the  ruthlessness  of  their 
prime.  She  said  nothing,  however.  Her  silence  ren- 
dered her  the  more  formidable. 

"  In  my  humble  judgment,"  said  Cheriton,  choos- 
ing his  words  delicately,  "  your  aff'ectionate  niece  has 
a  charmingly  frank,  and  at  the  same  time  a  deeply 
spiritual  nature." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Miss  Perry's  aunt.  "  The  crea- 
ture has  as  much  spirituality  as  that  bedpost." 

"  How  can  you  be  so  obtuse,  Caroline.'^  "  said  Cher- 
iton, achieving  a  very  respectable  note  of  pathos. 
"  There  is  a  vein  of  poetic  ideaHty  in  her  that  makes 
one  think  of  Saint  Catherine  of  Siena." 

"  A  vein  of  poetic  fiddlestick !  "  said  the  old  lady. 
"  She  has  as  much  ideality  as  Ponto  has.  The  only 
thing  that  interests  either  of  them  is  their  meals.  In 
fact,  I  should  say  that  Ponto  has  the  better  soul  of 
the  two.  I  sometimes  suspect  Ponto  of  being  an 
esoteric  Buddhist  in  a  reincarnation." 


270  ARAMINTA 

"  Do  you  indeed !  "  said  Cheriton.  "  Well,  when 
Ponto  presents  his  benefactress  with  a  copy  of 
'  Amiel's  Journal '  I  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  think 
you  have  grounds  for  your  suspicion." 

Cheriton  continued  to  run  his  fingers  fondly 
through  the  pages  of  "  Law's  Serious  Call." 

"  To  my  thinking,"  said  he,  "  it  was  a  singularly 
frank  yet  spiritually-minded  nature  that  conceived 
the  idea  of  presenting  her  aunt  with  a  work  of  this 
character." 

"  The  creature  is  as  spiritually-minded  as  a 
dog  ferret,"  croaked  the  occupant  of  the  four- 
poster. 

"  A  vigorous  figure,"  said  Cheriton,  "  yet  not  very 
happily  applied.  But  I  don't  wonder,  Caroline,  that 
you  are  a  little  topsy-turvy,  and  that  your  standard 
of  things  in  general  has  gone  awry." 

"Why  don't  you.?" 

Cheriton  permitted  himself  a  highly  dramatic  ges- 
ture.    "  That  man,"  he  said  tragically. 

"  To  whom  do  you  refer?  " 

"  I  refer,"  said  Cheriton,  "  to  the  most  dangerous 
man  in  London.  The  turkey-faced  ruffian !  He 
would  undermine  the  moral  code  of  Augustine 
himself." 

"  Happily,"  said  the  occupant  of  the  four-poster, 
"  I  am  not  Augustine.  As  far  as  George  is  con- 
cerned, I  stand  where  I  was.  Yet,  mark  one  thing, 
Cheriton — mark  one  thing  fully" — the  quiescent  lion- 
ess paused  to  unfurl  as  it  were  the  ominous  jowl  from 
the   band    of   her   nightgown — the   figure   is   not    a 


HIGH  DIPi^OMACY  271 

pretty  one  to  describe  a  peeress  of  mature  years,  but 
it  seems  to  be  the  only  one  that  can  in  anywise  do 
justice  to  the  slowly  kindling  flame  of  sarcasm  that 
was  revealing  itself  in  the  thin  lips  and  the  fierce 
eyes — "  I  have  a  greater  respect  for  George  at  this 
moment  than  I  have  ever  had  before." 

"  Have  you,  Caroline?  "  said  her  old  friend,  medi- 
tatively. 

He  was  a  cool  hand,  but  he  was  a  little  uneasy. 
The  occupant  of  the  four-poster  marked  down  the 
suspicion  of  disquietude,  whereas  a  less  virile  ob- 
server would  not  have  noticed  it  at  all. 

"  Yes,  Cheriton,"  said  the  raven's  voice.  "  What- 
ever George  may  be  or  whatever  he  may  not  be,  in  my 
opinion  he  is  a  practical  man." 

"  Practical  enough,  I  grant  you,  where  his  pas- 
sions are  concerned." 

"  In  my  judgment,"  said  the  occupant  of  the  four- 
poster,  "  it  is  precisely  where  his  passions  are  con- 
cerned that  a  man  ought  to  be  practical." 

Cheriton  agreed  with  reluctance. 

"  But  there  are  people,"  said  he,  with  an  air  of  re- 
finement, "  to  whom  the  practical  pursuit  of  passion 
must  always  seem  a  repulsive  undertaking." 

"  There  are  many  humbugs  in  the  world,"  said 
Caroline  Crewkerne.  "  Personally  I  agree  with 
George  that  passion  ought  to  be  placed  upon  a  busi- 
ness basis." 

Cheriton  threw  up  his  hands  with  a  gesture  of  well 
simulated  horror. 

"  No,  Caroline,"  said  he ;  "  you  have  no  soul.    And 


272  ARAMINTA 

yet  Ogle  tells  me  that  during  the  past  week  you 
have  been  literally  walking  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow." 

"  Ogle  is  a  liar,"  said  the  occupant  of  the  four- 
poster.     "  He  is  thinking  of  his  fee." 

"  For  shame,  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton.  "  Out  upon 
you  and  your  sentiments.  And  you  who  have  been 
so  near  the  Abyss !  " 

The  occupant  of  the  four-poster  gave  the  great 
head-dress  a  tilt.  The  gaze  that  was  directed  from 
under  the  bushy  eyebrows  was  that  of  a  sibyl. 

"  Cheriton,"  she  said,  "  some  two  months  ago  I  gave 
you  advice  in  regard  to  your  appearance.  I  have 
observed  with  pleasure  that  you  have  had  the  good 
sense  to  follow  it." 

It  was  not  quite  clear,  to  judge  by  Cheriton's  de- 
meanor, whether  he  felt  that  this  was  a  legitimate 
cause  for  gratification. 

"  I  am  glad,  Caroline,  you  find  the  result  agree- 
able," said  he. 

"  My  advice  was  given  for  a  particular  reason, 
you  will  remember." 

"  Yes,  Caroline,  it  was." 

Cheriton  began  to  speculate  as  to  which  card  his 
old  friend  was  going  to  play. 

"  Do  you  feel  that  you  can  congratulate  your- 
self.? " 

"Upon  what,  Caroline.?"  said  her  old  friend, 
blandly. 

"  You  don't  need  to  be  told,"  said  Caroline,  magis- 
terially.    "  All  London  is  looking  at  you." 


HIGH  DIPLOMACY  273 

"  Is  it?  "  said  Cheriton,  with  superb  innocence. 
"  And  praj,  what  does  it  see?  " 

"  It  sees,  as  I  do,  that  jour  behavior  is  of  doubt- 
ful propriety." 

"  Does  it  indeed !  " 

"  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  is  George's 
opinion." 

"  George ! "  exclaimed  Cheriton,  with  impassioned 
dignity.  "  George's  opinion !  I'll  thank  George  to 
refrain  from  expressing  an  opinion  about  me  or  about 
my  affairs." 

"  George  is  a  man  of  the  world,  at  any  rate.  I 
should  call  George  a  practical  man." 

"  George  is  a  presumptuous  fellow,"  said  Cheriton, 
with  heat.  "  I  should  recommend  him  to  refrain  from 
meddling  with  my  personal  affairs.  Let  him  attend 
to  his  own." 

"  George  is  quite  competent  to  do  that,"  said 
Caroline,  with  a  suavity  that  her  old  friend  felt  to  be 
decidedly  dangerous.  "  In  fact,  I  may  say  that 
George  has  already  placed  his  affairs  upon  a  business 
basis." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Caroline?  " 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  what  I  mean,"  said  the 
cryptical  Caroline.  "  The  question  is,  what  do  you 
mean,  Cheriton?" 

Cheriton  allowed  "  Law's  Serious  Call "  to  fall 
upon  the  counterpane. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  indulge  in  riddles,"  said  he. 

"  There  is  no  mystery,"  said  Caroline.  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  say  one  thing  to  you  quite  plainly." 


274  ARAMINTA 

"  You  have  always  been  inclined  to  err  on  the  side 
of  plainness,  Caroline,  in  my  opinion." 

"  George  thinks,  and  I  think  with  him,  that  the 
time  is  ripe  for  you  to  make  a  declaration  of  your 
intentions." 

"  My  intentions  !  " 

"  Your  intentions,  Cheriton,  in  regard  to  my  niece 
Miss  Perry.  As  she  has  been  intrusted  to  my  care  I 
feel  that  I  have  a  right  to  make  this  demand." 

During  the  pause  which  ensued  the  occupant  of 
the  four-poster  adjusted  her  head-dress  in  much  the 
same  manner  that  a  Lord  Chief  Justice  might  be  ex- 
pected to  adjust  his  wig.  Cheriton  on  his  part  as- 
sumed a  port  of  dignified  composure. 

"  I  have  no  need  to  assure  you,  CaroHne,"  said  he, 
impressively,  "  that  my  intentions,  as  far  as  your 
niece  Miss  Perry  is  concerned,  are  honorable — in  the 
highest  degree." 

"  I  am  pleased  to  have  your  assurance,  Cheriton, 
that  that  is  so,"  said  Caroline,  coolly.  "  George  ap- 
peared to  take  a  rather  pessimistic  view  of  them." 

"  I  will  thank  you,  Caroline,  not  to  quote  that  man 
to  me." 

"  I  have  a  greater  respect  for  George  than  I  have 
ever  had  before.  That  is  v/hy  I  quote  him.  He  has 
recently  show^n  himself  in  the  light  of  an  uncom- 
monly astute  fellow." 

"  Bah !  "  said  Cheriton.  "  I  have  never  disguised 
from  myself  that  George  would  have  been  more  suc- 
cessful as  the  proprietor  of  a  bucket-shop  than  as  an 
English  gentleman." 


HIGH  DIPLOMACY  275 

"  George  is  a  practical  man,  and  in  my  judgment, 
Cheriton,  that  is  where  he  has  the  advantage  of 
you.  For  in  my  judgment  you  have  never  been 
that." 

"  Thank  you,  Caroline.  That  is  an  advantage  I 
am  only  too  glad  to  concede  to  anybody." 

"  If  you  will  take  my  advice,  Cheriton,  you  won't 
be  too  read}^  to  concede  it.  There  is  one  question  I 
intend  to  put  to  you."  The  occupant  of  the  four- 
poster  leant  forward  a  little  from  under  her  canopy 
with  an  aspect  of  the  most  resolute  sarcasm  that  ever 
adorned  the  human  countenance.  "  Do  you  intend  to 
marry  the  girl?  " 

The  question  was  fired  point-blank  in  all  its  ruth- 
less directness.  Cheriton  had  long  cherished  the  opin- 
ion that  the  venerable  occupant  of  the  four-poster 
was  the  most  consummate  vulgarian  of  her  time.  In 
this  he  was  doubtless  correct,  for  the  frank  contempt 
which  she  cherished  for  anything  "  finicking  "  was 
apt  to  lead  her  into  extreme  courses.  But  even  he, 
with  all  his  cynicism,  was  not  prepared  for  anything 
quite  so  straight  from  the  shoulder.  Therefore  he 
gave  ground  a  little.  He  was  inclined  to  hum  and 
haw. 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  Caroline,"  he  said,  "  the 
answer  to  that  question  must  remain  entirely  my 
affair." 

"  Answer  me,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne, 
her  wrinkled  old  lips  curling  with  sarcasm.  "  Do 
you  Intend  to  marry  my  niece?  " 

Cheriton  abated  his  glance.    He  took  the  glass  from 


276  ARAMINTA 

his  eye  and  examined  it  critically.  He  shifted  his 
feet  a  little.  He  then  replaced  the  glass  carefully 
and  stuck  his  hands  under  his  frock  coat. 

"  Yes,  Caroline,  I  do,"  he  said,  with  admirable 
composure. 

"  Very  good,  Cheriton,"  said  the  occupant  of  the 
four-poster,  with  ominous  pleasantness.  "  I  feel  it  to 
be  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  George  does  also." 

The  blow  was  planted  with  all  the  skill  of  which 
the  occupant  of  the  four-poster  was  capable.  Cher- 
iton, however,  had  had  time  to  foresee  it.  Therefore, 
although  unable  to  evade  the  force  of  it,  he  received 
it  staunchly. 

"  But  that  is  impossible,  Caroline,"  he  said,  with 
a  superb  assumption  of  indifference. 

"  Why  impossible  ?  "  said  the  occupant  of  the  four- 
poster,  with  the  amiability  of  one  who  holds  the  whole 
game  in  her  hand. 

"  The  most  ill-assorted  pair  in  England,"  said 
Cheriton,  gravely.  "  The  incongruity  of  their  tastes, 
the  dissimilarity  of  their  appearance,  their  disparity 
in  years." 

"  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton." 

"  It  is  far  from  coxcombry,  I  assure  you,  Caro- 
line," said  Cheriton,  plaintively.  "  A  ravishing  crea- 
ture like  that  to  marry  a  mere  simulacrum  like 
George.  I  shudder.  The  idea  is  horrible.  It  revolts 
me." 

"  Don't  behave  like  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton.  George 
is  quite  as  eligible  as  you  are.  In  my  estimation  he 
is  the  more  eligible  of  the  two." 


HIGH  DIPLOMACY  277 

"  Upon  my  word,  Caroline." 

"  Socially,  of  course,  George  is  the  more  impor- 
tant." 

"  I  take  leave  to  doubt  it." 

"  Do  be  practical,  Cheriton." 

"  In  my  humble  judgment,  Caroline,  a  first-rate 
earl  is  of  more  account  than  a  second-rate  duke." 

"  A  matter  of  opinion,  Cheriton,"  said  the  occu- 
pant of  the  four-poster,  "  in  more  senses  than  one. 
Then,  again,  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  state  that 
George  has  already  put  the  matter  upon  a  business 
basis." 

"  Revolting." 

"  Coxcombry." 

"  What  do  you  mean  precisely  by  a  business 
basis.?" 

"  I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  state  that  George  has 
made  a  definite  offer," 

"To  the  girl?" 

"  Certainly  not,  Cheriton.  Have  you  no  sense  of 
decency.?  And  I  may  say  that  as  far  as  it  goes  the 
offer  is  a  tolerably  good  one." 

"Marriage.?  You  are  quite  sure  that  George 
means  marriage.?  " 

"  Yes,  Cheriton,  he  means  marriage,"  said  the  oc- 
cupant of  the  four-poster,  with  her  "  hanging- 
judge  "  demeanor. 

"  I  can  only  say,"  said  Cheriton,  "  that  such  con- 
duct is  very  unlike  him.  I  yield  to  none,  Caroline,  in 
whole-hearted  admiration  of  your  niece.  Miss  Perry, 
considered  aesthetically  and  as  a  work  of  nature,  but 


278  ARAMINTA 

you  must  not  forget  that  she  has  not  a  sou,  and  she 
is  of  no  particular  family." 

The  occupant  of  the  four-poster  breathed  blood 
and  fire. 

"  She  is  a  Wargrave,"  said  she. 

"  On  the  distaff  side." 

"  It  is  more  than  good  enough  for  either  of  you." 

"  Matter  of  opinion,  Caroline,  matter  of  opinion," 
said  Cheriton,  musically. 

"  Your  patent  dates  from  a  land- jobbing  lawyer 
in  the  days  of  George  the  Second,"  said  the  occupant 
of  the  four-poster,  whose  head-dress  was  performing 
surprising  feats.  "  As  for  the  Bettertons — ^who, 
pray,  are  the  Bettertons  ?  " 

"  A  truce  to  family  pride,"  said  Cheriton,  mellif- 
luously.  "  Let  us  get  on  with  the  business.  I  should 
be  glad  to  know  precisely  what  that  sordid-minded 
ruffian  has  offered." 

"  A  settlement  is,  of  course,  a  sine  qua  non.^* 

"  I  fail  to  understand  why  it  should  be,  seeing  that 
the  girl  herself  has  not  a  penny." 

"  There  are  always  two  points  of  view,  Cheriton. 
And  in  my  judgment  the  creature's  destitute  condi- 
tion renders  a  settlement  the  more  imperative." 

"  But  one  may  suppose  you  are  prepared  to  do 
something,  Caroline ! "  said  Cheriton,  with  a  severely 
businesslike  air  that  was  not  quite  in  harmony  with 
his  former  altruistic  bearing.  "  You  are  dooced  rich, 
you  know;  you  have  not  a  soul  to  leave  your  money 
to;  and  you  can't  take  it  with  you." 

"  As  far  as  aspirants  to  my  niece's  hand  are  con- 


HIGH  DIP.^OMACY  279 

cerned,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne,  "  my  intentions  in 
regard  to  her  do  not  enter  into  the  case.  It  is  their 
intentions  that  are  important.  George  has  made  a 
hona-f.de  offer.    Do  you  propose  to  better  it .?  " 

"  What  is  George's  offer.?  " 

"  George  is  prepared,"  said  Carohne  Crewkerne, 
who,  in  spite  of  her  "  laryngitis,"  spoke  with  wonder- 
ful clearness,  "  to  make  an  ante-nuptial  settlement 
upon  my  niece.  Miss  Perry,  of  five  thousand  a  year 
and  the  dower  house  at  Godalming." 

Cheriton  appeared  to  yield  a  little. 

"  Have  you  that  in  writing,  Caroline.?  "  said  he. 

"  I  have.     It  is  in  the  hands  of  my  lawyer." 

"  If  I  may,  I  should  like  very  much  to  see  it." 

"  You  will  see  nothing,  Cheriton.  The  question,  as 
far  as  it  affects  you,  is,  are  you  prepared  to  better 
George's  offer.?  " 

"  It  is  so  unlike  George,"  said  the  incredulous 
Cheriton,  "  that  one  can  hardly  bring  one's  self  to 
believe  that  he  made  it.  He  has  treated  none  of  his 
other  women  in  that  way." 

"  Doubtless  they  had  nobody  who  knew  how  to 
handle  him,"  said  the  occupant  of  the  four-poster, 
with  a  chuckle  of  grim  satisfaction. 

"  Yes,  Caroline,  you  have  a  good  head,"  sighed  my 
lord.     "  A  dooced  good  head." 

"  Are  you  prepared,  Cheriton,  to  better  George's 
offer.?" 

"  It  wants  thinking  over,"  said  that  idealist, 
thoughtfully. 

The  old  woman's  upper  lip  took  its  famous  and 


280  ARAMINTA 

terrible  double  curl,  while  her  head-dress  seemed  to 
erect  itself  into  a  veritable  panoply  of  grim  derision. 

"  Yes,  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  think  it  over.  I  will 
give  you  a  week." 

"  Say  a  fortnight." 

"  A  week.  A  fortnight  would  not  be  fair  to 
George." 

Mr.  Marchbanks  entered  on  tip-toe. 

"  Sir  Wotherspoon  Ogle,  my  lady." 

The  negotiations  were  curtailed  by  the  entrance  of 
the  eminent  physician. 

"  How  pleasant  it  is  to  see  you  looking  so  much 
improved,"  said  Sir  Wotherspoon.  "  Complete  rest 
of  mind  and  body  have  done  wonders  for  you." 

"  Humph !  "  said  the  occupant  of  the  four-poster, 
ungraciously. 

"  '  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still  for  idle  hands 
to  do,'  "  Cheriton  reflected  as  he  took  his  leave. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A    CONVERSATION    AT    WARD's 

CHERITON  was  a  good  deal  perturbed.  He 
felt  that  the  conduct  of  Caroline  Crewkerne 
bore  a  perilous  resemblance  to  the  pointing  at  one  of 
a  loaded  pistol.  He  had  a  constitutional  objection 
to  doing  things  under  compulsion  or  in  a  hurry.  He 
would  greatly  have  preferred  that  his  sentiments  in 
regard  to  Miss  Perry  should  have  been  permitted  to 
ripen  at  their  leisure.  Let  nature  take  her  course. 
Why  force  the  fine  flower  of  altruism,  or  encumber 
it  with  the  coarser  growths  which  sprang  from  a 
sordid  and  grasping  materialism.'^ 

His  admiration  for  Miss  Perry  was  immense. 
That,  however,  he  shared  with  many  people.  Her 
success  had  been  a  feature  of  the  season.  Cheriton 
was  in  no  sense  a  modest  man,  and  he  could  not  help 
feeling  that  much  of  it  was  due  to  his  brilliantly  ef- 
fective stage  management.  Certainly  his  zeal  for 
?diss  Perry's  advancement  had  been  largely  inspired 
by  vanity.  From  the  first  he  had  taken  her  under 
his  wing;  and  a  great  deal  of  the  world's  applause 
had  been  addressed  to  him  personally  on  the  strength 
of  his  "  discovery." 

He  was  somewhat  advanced  in  years,  certainly,  to 
think  of  marriage.     But  he  had  always   felt  that 

381 


282  ARAMINTA 

sooner  or  later  he  would  inevitably  take  that  course. 
He  was  urged  thereto  by  a  number  of  considerations. 
And  now  that  the  time  had  come  when  it  was  neces- 
sary that  he  should  know  his  own  mind,  he  really 
felt  that  he  had  a  very  genuine  regard  for  Miss 
Perry. 

The  mere  act  of  walking  down  Bond  Street  with 
her  attracted  an  amount  of  notice  that  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  claim  in  his  own  person.  Nevertheless, 
he  liked  it  immensely.  And  even  if  commanding 
beauty  and  an  unique  personality  did  not  suffice  in 
themselves,  the  fact  that  a  powerful  rival  was  in  the 
field  was  enough  to  stimulate  his  altruism  in  the 
highest  degree. 

He  was  fully  determined  not  to  be  cut  out  by  a 
man  like  George  Betterton.  That  was  the  decision 
which  braced  his  faculties  as  he  sauntered  down  to  his 
club  to  read  the  newspapers.  From  the  first  he  had 
had  a  lurking  suspicion  that  George  meant  business ; 
but  unless  Caroline  played  him  false,  and  his  cause 
was  already  forsworn,  he  felt  that  he  would  prove 
more  than  a  match  for  that  by  no  means  agile  man  of 
affairs. 

Could  he  count  upon  Caroline  Crewkerne.?  It  was 
a  thorny  question  for  the  altruist  to  present  to  him- 
self. So  intimately  was  he  acquainted  with  the  in- 
stinctive mental  processes  of  that  difficult  old  woman 
that  he  was  quite  sure  he  could  not  count  upon  her 
unless  he  could  advance  some  very  definite  reason  for 
her  good-will.  If  he  wanted  Miss  Perry,  one  thing 
was  clear.    He  must  prove  himself  the  superior  parti. 


A  CONVERSATION  AT  WARD'S  283 

On  the  surface,  Cheriton  was  as  vain  a  man  as  any 
to  be  found  in  London.  But  his  coxcombry  was  a 
superficial  growth,  assiduously  cultivated,  to  hide  the 
uncommonly  shrewd  and  cool  calculator  who  lurked 
beneath.  Not  everybody  knew  that,  but  Caroline 
Crewkerne  did.  Her  dictum  of  "  Cheriton  is  no  fool  " 
was  her  way  of  expressing  that  he  was  really  very 
^  much  the  contrary.  And  in  her  heart  she  respected 
him  accordingly.  No  one  despised  a  fool  more 
heartily  than  she  did.  As  far  as  she  could,  she  dealt 
exclusively  with  people  who  knew  how  many  beans 
made  five.  There  was  a  certain  amount  of  honor  to 
be  gained  in  overreaching  them. 

"  George  is  a  dooced  dangerous  fellow,"  mused 
the  altruist,  on  the  way  to  his  club.  "  He  is  a  big- 
wig in  his  second-rate  sort  of  way,  with  his  Garter 
and  his  money.  He  is  the  sort  of  fellow  to  demoralize 
a  woman.  And  if  he  wants  a  penniless  parson's 
daughter  he  can  afford  to  marry  her.  Unless  that 
old  heathen  is  lying — and  she  is  capable  of  anything 
— I  shall  have  to  keep  my  eye  on  the  target.  As  long 
as  there  is  good  manhood  left  in  the  country,  that 
ruffian  shall  not  marry  our  adorable  Goose." 

As  he  formulated  this  ultimatum  the  preiix  che- 
'valier  turned  the  corner  of  Saint  James's  Street. 
Seated  in  the  bow  window  of  Ward's  was  the  object 
of  these  reflections.  He  was  reading  Horse  and 
Hound.  From  a  distance  Cheriton  marked  him  with 
the  air  of  a  satyr. 

"  There  he  is,"  he  muttered  cheerfully.  "  He's 
got  the  head  of  a  rocking-horse,  thank  God !  " 


284  ARAMINTA 

Seen  in  profile,  George's  pouched,  purple  face,  his 
ungainly  jowl,  his  loose  cheeks,  and  his  bald  head, 
without  exactly  meriting  the  strictures  to  which  their 
owner  had  been  exposed,  yet  bore  a  kind  of  wooden 
stupidity  which  gave  grounds  for  the  portrait. . 

Cheriton,  having  observed  that  none  of  his  fellow- 
members  were  within  earshot,  advanced  to  the  Tecess 
with  an  air  of  bonhomie  that  was  totally  lost  upon 
George,  who  was  not  in  the  least  susceptible  to  casual 
external  influences. 

"  How  are  you,  George  ?  "  he  said  heartily. 

"  Pooty  well  for  an  old  'un,"  said  George,  with 
the  rough  geniality  he  extended  to  everybody. 

"  I  hope  you  are  quite  free  of  the  old  trouble.'^  " 
said  Cheriton,  solicitously. 

"  Free  as  I  ever  shall  be,"  said  George. 

"  As  I  haven't  seen  you  about  lately  I  was  begin- 
ning to  fear  that  you  were  laid  up  again." 

"  No,"  said  George ;  and  then,  like  the  consum- 
mate blunderer  he  was,  he  fell  into  the  trap.  "  Why, 
he  said,  "  didn't  I  see  you  at  Hill  Street  yester- 
day? " 

"  Hill  Street !  "  said  Cheriton,  with  an  air  of  com- 
plete innocence.  "  You  might  have  seen  me,  but  I 
didn't  see  you." 

"  You  were  there,  anyhow,"  said  George,  "  and  so 
was  I." 

"  Were  you  ?  "  said  his  friend.  "  Then  why  the 
dooce  didn't  I  see  you  ?  " 

"  I  remember  now,"  said  George.  "  I  called  round 
to  see  Caroline  Crewkerne,  and  you  called  too,  but  she 


A  CONVERSATION  AT  WARD'S  285 

thought  you  had  better  not  come  up,  as  the  two  of  us 
might  prove  too  much  for  her." 

"  She  erred  on  the  side  of  caution,  my  dear  fellow. 
Two  and  twenty  like  you  and  me  would  not  prove  too 
much  for  that  old  woman." 

"  No,  I  dare  say,"  said  George,  with  a  grunt  of 
approbation.     "  How  is  she  this  morning?  " 

"  Getting  stronger  by  degrees.  In  my  opinion,  if 
that  old  woman  is  kept  in  bed  much  longer  she  will 
wreck  the  premises." 

"  Remarkably  vigorous  mind  for  a  woman  of  her 
age." 

"  Her  mind,  in  my  humble  judgment,  is  much  too 
vigorous  for  one  of  her  years,"  said  Cheriton,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  imparts  a  profound  truth  to  an  in- 
tellectual equal.  "  In  my  opinion,  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne  is  a  rather  embarrassing  phenomenon.  She  has 
the  education  of  a  Whig,  and  the  instincts  of  a 
Jesuit." 

"  I  dare  say,"  grunted  George,  who  felt  that  Cher- 
iton, as  usual,  was  becoming  tedious.  He  showed  a 
marked  inclination  to  resume  the  study  of  the  prices 
made  at  Tattersall's  the  week  before  last.  Cheriton's 
next  remark,  however,  did  something  to  recapture  his 
interest. 

"  You  remember  that  gal  of  hers,  that  niece  .^^  "  said 
Cheriton,  speaking  in  a  rather  aggrieved  tone. 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George,  heavily,  but  with  attention. 
"  Gal  with  the  ginger  hair." 

"  Well,  now,  George,"  said  his  old  friend,  impres- 
sively, "  I  am  going  to  tell  you  something." 


286  ARAMINTA 

Cheriton  looked  round  the  room  to  make  quite 
sure  that  none  of  his  fellow-members  were  within 
hearing. 

"  When  that  gal  came  to  London  a  few  weeks  ago," 
said  he,  "  she  arrived  at  Hill  Street  in  a  turn-out  that 
any  self-respecting  butter-woman  would  disdain  to  go 
to  market  in.  She  was  the  most  untutored  child  of 
nature  that  I  ever  saw  in  the  house  of  a  Christian." 

George  nodded  to  show  that  he  was  following  the 
course  of  his  friend's  narrative. 

"  Well,  Caroline  was  furious.  You  know,  I  dare 
say,  the  circumstances  in  which  the  gal  came  to  Hill 
Street.  Mind  you,  I  don't  disguise  the  fact  that  her 
coming  there  at  all  was  highly  creditable  to  Caroline. 
In  the  course  of  a  forty  years'  acquaintance,  it  is  the 
only  spontaneous  act  of  charity  in  which  I  have 
known  her  indulge.  But  when  she  saw  the  un- 
tutored creature  that  had  been  sent  to  her  from  the 
heart  of  Exmoor,  she  wanted  to  send  her  packing. 
However,  with  infinite  difficulty,  I  managed  to  dis- 
suade her.  Her  people  are  as  poor  as  mice,  as,  of 
course,  you  know.  Father  a  parson,  who  has  to  bring 
up  a  long  family  on  forty  pound  a  year." 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George,  nodding. 

"  Knowing  the  gal's  circumstances,"  his  friend 
continued,  "  I  thought  it  would  be  only  right  to  give 
her  a  chance.  But  Caroline  was  all  for  sending  her 
home  again.  And  then  I  made  the  discovery  that  the 
rustic  parson's  daughter  was  by  way  of  being  a 
throwback  to  her  grandmother  Dorset.  Well,  George, 
what  do  you  think  I  did.'^  " 


A  CONVERSATION  AT  WARD'S  287 

"  No  idea,"  said  George. 

"  I  got  hold,  my  dear  fellow,  of  Duprez,  the  Paris 
milliner,  and  Pelissier,  the  woman  from  the  bonnet 
shop  in  Grafton  Street,  and  between  us  we  turned 
out  that  gal  a  very  tolerable  imitation  of  Grand- 
mother Dorset.  And  as  I  had  a  genuine  interest  in 
the  gal  for  her  own  sake,  for  she  is  a  very  nice 
simple  gal,  I  took  her  about  to  let  her  see  something 
of  London,  so  that  she  might  get  a  few  ideas  about 
things  in  general." 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George. 

"  You  see,  my  dear  fellow,  what  I  said  to  Caroline 
was  this."  Cheriton  again  looked  about  him  to  dis- 
cover the  proximity  of  his  fellow-members,  and  as- 
sumed a  very  confidential  air.  "  '  With  a  bit  of  luck, 
and  if  you  can  play  your  cards  as  well  as  you  used 
to,  that  gal  might  marry.  She  hasn't  a  penny,  of 
course,  and  she  is  of  no  particular  family,  but  she  is 
not  at  all  a  bad  style  of  gal  when  she  has  on  a  pretty 
frock.  In  fact,  Caroline,'  I  said,  '  in  my  opinion 
she  is  just  the  sort  of  gal  to  catch  a  brewer  or  a 
stockholder  or  one  of  these  new  men  with  money.'  " 

"  Ye-es,"  said  George. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  his  friend,  more 
confidentially  than  ever,  "  what  do  you  think  that  old 
Jesuit  does?    I  put  it  to  you,  George." 

"  No  idea,"  said  George. 

"  Finding  the  gal  has  not  gone  off  as  she  ought, 
she  turns  round  on  me." 

"  You !  "  said  George,  with  stolid  surprise. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  turns  round  on  me,  and  has 


288  ARAMINTA 

the  effrontery  to  expect  me — me,  George — to  marry 
her." 

George  gave  a  chuckle. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  my  dear  fellow.?  Cool, 
eh.?" 

George  turned  over  a  page  of  Horse  and  Hound 
with  a  preternatural  appearance  of  gravity.  Ap- 
parently he  was  not  at  all  conscious  that  Cheriton 
was  scrutinizing  him  narrowly. 

"What  do  you  say  to  it?" 

"  Well,"  said  George,  slowly  and  heavily,  "  I 
should  say  you  were  asking  for  it." 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Cheriton  was  baffled. 
For,  both  in  the  manner  and  in  the  matter  of  the 
rejoinder,  no  portion  of  George's  feelings  was 
visible. 

"  Asking  for  it !  "  said  Cheriton,  with  virtuous  in- 
dignation. "  Upon  my  word,  George,  I  expected  bet- 
ter things  of  you !  To  say  the  least,  it  is  a  poor  en- 
couragement to  a  good  heart." 

"  Well,  you  know,  Cheriton,"  said  George,  with  a 
genial  grunt  and  addressing  himself  to  Horse  and 
Hound  in  earnest,  "  you  might  do  worse.  Ginger- 
haired  gal  is  not  bad-lookin' !  " 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  got  out  of  George. 
Not  only  did  Tattersall's  sale  list  prove  of  absorbing 
interest,  but  fellow-members  began  to  encroach  upon 
the  privacy  of  the  bow  window.  Among  these  was 
the  bullet-headed  marquis  from  Yorkshire. 

"Give  you  a  good  sermon,  Kendal.?"  said  Cheri- 
ton, nodding  affably. 


A  CONVERSATION  AT  WARD'S  289 

"  No,"  said  the  marquis,  slowly  and  with  decision. 
"  Too  much  up  in  the  air  for  my  taste." 

"  Up  in  the  air !  "  said  Cheriton.  "  I  am  surprised 
to  hear  you  say  that.  I  thought  every  parson  in 
Europe  had  abandoned  the  up-in-the-air  theory. 
They  say  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within  you  these 
days,  don't  they.?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  marquis,  gravely,  "  and  in  my 
opinion  and  in  the  opinion  of  Maria  they  are  making 
a  great  error." 

"  Indigestion  probably,"  said  Cheriton,  with  a  lit- 
tle shrug,  and  taking  up  the  Figaro.  "  But  if  you 
will  have  your  cooks  from  Yorkshire!  " 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Kendal,  "  I  was  told  this 
morning  that  Caroline  Crcwkerne  was  not  expected 
to  recover." 

"  I  am  able  to  contradict  that  rumor,"  said  Cher- 
iton. 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Kendal.  "  Caroline  is  one 
of  the  old  standards." 

"  A  survivor  of  a  darker  age,"  said  Cheriton. 

"  I  see  that  little  bay  horse  of  yours  made  a  hun- 
dred and  forty  guineas,"  said  George,  from  behind 
Horse  and  Hound. 

"  Yes,"  said  Kendal,  "  and  was  worth  more." 

"  Why  did  you  part  with  him  ?  " 

"  He  tried  to  bite  Priscilla." 

"Vice.?" 

"  No,  only  playful." 

"  Talking  of  Priscilla,"  said  Cheriton,  "  has  that 
young  chap  painted  her  yet.?" 


290  ARAMINTA 

"  No,"  said  Kendal.  "  Maria  has  a  fancy  for 
Halpin." 

Cheriton  shook  his  head  sagely. 

"  You  are  making  a  mistake,"  said  he. 

"  Halpin  is  a  good  man,  ain't  he.^^  " 

"  Halpin  is  Halpin,  of  course ;  but  this  young  fel- 
low Lascelles  is  the  coming  man.  He  has  done  a 
wonderful  portrait  of  Caroline  Crewkerne's  niece." 

The  marquis  laughed  in  the  broad  Yorkshire 
manner. 

"  I  suppose,  Cheriton,"  said  he,  "  we  must  con- 
gratulate you." 

George  laid  down  Horse  and  Hound.  Cheriton, 
who  seemed  far  more  preoccupied  with  George's  be- 
havior than  with  Kendal's  question,  favored  the 
former  with  a  gesture  of  humorous  despair. 

"  I  believe,"  said  he  to  Kendal,  "  that  you  regular 
churchgoers  go  to  church  mainly  to  keep  abreast  of 
the  times." 

"  Well,  there's  no  denying,"  said  Kendal,  with  a 
wink  at  George,  "  that  we  do  not  contrive  to  do  that." 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Cheriton,  "  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  you  regular  churchgoers  getting  a 
little  in  front  of  the  times." 

"  People  seem  to  think  she  is  the  most  beautiful 
girl  in  England,"  said  the  marquis.  "  Priscilla  is 
very  jealous." 

"  If  I  were  half  as  handsome  as  Priscilla,"  said 
Cheriton,  discreetly — for  personal  beauty  was  cer- 
tainly not  Priscilla's  strong  point — "  I  should  not  be 
jealous  of  a  poor  parson's  daughter." 


A  CONVERSATION  AT  WARD'S  291 

"  Funny  cattle,  y'know,"  said  Kendal,  with  an  air 
of  wisdom.  "  You  young  bachelors  have  got  that  to 
find  out.    What  do  you  say,  George?  " 

George,  whose  experience  of  the  sex  was  extensive 
and  peculiar,  gave  a  grunt  of  ponderous  solemnity. 

"  Anyhow,"  said  Cheriton,  in  the  bounty  of  his 
heart,  "  Lascelles  is  your  man.  Tell  the  wife  I  say 
so." 

When  Cheriton  came  to  reflect  upon  George's  atti- 
tude, that  is,  as  far  as  his  prescience  could  discern 
it,  he  felt  that  the  position  of  affairs  called  for  less 
decisive  action  than  Caroline  Crewkerne  had  In- 
dicated. His  interview  with  her  that  morning,  how- 
ever, had  the  effect  of  crystallizing  his  ideas.  He 
had  now  definitely  made  up  his  mind  that  George  Bet- 
terton  should  not  marry  Miss  Perry. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MUFFIN  MAKES   HER   APPEARANCE  AT   PEN-Y-GROS 
CASTLE 

IT  was  now  July,  and  in  spite  of  Goodwood,  and 
Lord's,  and  a  constant  succession  of  parties,  Miss 
Perry  remained  faithful  in  her  allegiance  to  the 
Acacias.  Her  attendance  at  the  wooden  structure 
in  the  small  Balham  back  garden  was  not  absolutely 
necessary,  because  the  picture  was  in  quite  an  ad- 
vanced stage,  but  there  can  be  no  question  that  her 
presence  was  a  great  aid  to  the  artist.  As  a  rule, 
Lord  Cheriton  conceived  it  to  be  his  duty  to  accom- 
pany her  on  these  pilgrimages.  With  that  disinter- 
ested benevolence,  for  which  he  was  well  known,  he 
feared  lest  the  mazes  of  traffic  in  which  the  vast 
metropolis  abounded  should  overwhelm  that  ingenu- 
ous but  charming  child  of  nature.  And  further,  he 
seemed  to  find  Mrs.  Lascelles  a  singularly  agreeable 
woman. 

While  the  great  things  of  art  were  toward  across 
the  garden,  Mrs.  Lascelles  and  Lord  Cheriton  would 
sit  in  the  tiny  drawing-room  with  the  French  window 
open  to  the  grass  plot,  and  the  fierceness  of  the  ob- 
trusive Balham  sunshine  mitigated  by  a  sunblind, 
striped  green  and  red.     Here  in  a  couple  of  wicker- 

293 


MUFFIN  AT  PEN-Y-GROS  CASTLE      293 

work  chairs  with  ingenious  arrangements  for  the  feet 
they  could  recHne,  with  half  an  eye  upon  the  wooden 
structure  at  the  other  side  of  the  lawn,  where  the 
wonderful  Miss  Perry  was  just  visible  in  chiaroscuro 
through  the  open  door.  They  discoursed  of  the  great 
days  when  Gheriton  was  a  younger  son,  and  at  the 
Embassy  at  Paris,  and  used  to  wear  a  stripe  down 
the  leg  of  his  trousers. 

The  world  was  younger  in  those  days,  and  giants 
lived  in  it.  That  fellow  Gautier,  who  used  to  swagger 
at  the  play  in  a  coat  of  plum-colored  velvet  and  a 
yellow  dicky ;  and  the  dandies,  the  poets,  the  painters, 
the  musicians,  the  men  in  politics  and  diplomacy,  the 
gay,  careless,  brilliant,  cosmopolitan  company  that 
thronged  the  French  capital  before  the  Fall — yes, 
those  were  the  days  to  live  in  and  to  remember !  But 
where  were  they  now.^^  Where  were  the  snows  of  the 
year  before  last.'^ 

Let  us  drink  of  the  cup,  for  we  know  not  what  the 
morrow  holds  for  us,  was  the  burden  of  Cheriton's 
reflections.  He  had  seen  the  great  hulking  beslob- 
bered Germans  at  Versailles  in  '71,  and  he  had  seen 
the  mutilated  city  after  peace. 

"War  is  so  bete,^'  said  he.  "And  everything  is 
that  makes  us  unhappy.  I  don't  believe  that  any 
fragrant  thing  ever  sprang  out  of  misery.  All  the 
things  we  live  for  are  wrought  of  happiness.  I  am 
sure,  Mrs.  Lascelles,  it  gave  you  great  pleasure  to 
write  the  first  chapter  of  your  novel." 

Jim's  mother  smiled  charmingly.  She  had  been 
prevailed  upon  to  read  her  simple  and  unpretending 


294  ARAMINTA 

narrative  of  life  as  she  saw  It,  which  could  find  no 
publisher,  because  "  there  was  not  enough  In  It  "  for 
the  public  taste. 

"  We  must  respect  the  public,"  said  Cherlton. 
"  And  of  course  we  must  respect  those  who  diagnose 
its  need.  But  what  a  joy  it  must  have  been  to  you 
to  compose  your  little  prelude  to,  shall  I  say,  the 
works  of  Stendhal !  " 

"  Mon  pauvre  Arrlgo  Beyle !  "  said  Jim's  mother, 
with  a  little  blush  of  pleasure  that  was  really  very 
becoming. 

There  was  a  perceptible  movement  in  the  wooden 
structure.  A  form,  divinely  tall  and  divinely  fair, 
appeared  upon  the  grass  plot.  It  was  accompanied 
by  a  stalwart,  velvet-coated  cavalier. 

"  A  short  interval  for  strawberries  and  cream," 
said  Jim. 

"  Most  rational,  my  dear  Lascelles,"  said  the  lazily 
musical  voice  of  his  patron  from  the  depths  of  his 
wicker  chair,  "  and  most  proper.  As  I  was  observing 
to  your  accomplished  mother,  the  great  things  of  art 
require  an  atmosphere  of  natural  and  spontaneous 
gladness  in  which  to  get  themselves  created.  Straw- 
berries and  cream,  by  all  means.  Do  not  spare  that 
national  delicacy  if  you  wish  to  get  a  final  and  con- 
summate glow  upon  your  masterpiece." 

The  attention  of  Miss  Perry  was  wholly  diverted 
by  the  rich  display  of  the  national  delicacy  in  ques- 
tion upon  the  tea-table. 

"  Aren't  they  beauties  ?  "  said  she,  in  thrilling 
tones.     "  I  am  sure  Muffin  has  picked  the  largest  in 


MUFFIN  AT  PEN-\^-GROS  CASTLE       295 

the  garden ;  and  when  I  wrote  to  her,  I  specially 
told  her  not  to." 

"  Among  the  select  but  ever-widenmg  circle  of 
persons,"  said  Cheriton,  "  whom  I  desire  to  meet  in 
the  Elysian  Fields,  my  dear  Miss  Goose,  is  your  sis- 
ter. Muffin." 

"  She  is  too  sweet,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  Aren't  they 
beauties.^     I  am  sure  you  would  like  her  so  much." 

After  some  liberal  and  copious  refreshment — the 
afternoon  was  indeed  very  hot — Miss  Perry  and  Jim 
Lascelles  returned  to  the  service  of  art.  Jim's  mother 
was  prevailed  upon  to  open  the  little  rosewood  piano. 
This  time  she  played  Brahms.  Her  touch,  in  the 
opinion  of  her  listener,  was  deliciously  sensitive.  She 
promised  to  accompany  him  on  the  Friday  following 
to  the  Opera  to  hear  Calve  in  La  Boheme.  They  dis- 
cussed the  theaters,  and  waxed  enthusiastic  over  the 
artless  witchery  of  Duse  as  Mirandola. 

"  And  soon,  my  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  Cheri- 
ton, with  his  paternal  air,  "  I  suppose  you  will  be  off 
to  the  sea." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim's  mother,  hopefully,  "  if  the  little 
study  of  the  Tuscan  woman  in  the  field  of  olives  finds 
a  purchaser." 

"  One  feels  sure  it  will,"  said  Cheriton,  with  per- 
haps a  better  grounded  optimism. 

Cheriton  was  justified  of  it,  however.  Jim  Las- 
celles contrived  a  few  days  later  to  sell  that  not  spe- 
cially significant  little  work  for  forty  pounds.  In 
his  o^vn  judgment,  and  in  that  of  others,  this  sum 
was  every  penny  of  what  it  was  worth.     It  was  so 


296  ARAMINTA 

obviously  a  picture  in  which  he  was  seeking  to  find 
the  right  way  in  that  carelessly  happy  era  before 
the  right  way  had  come  to  him  so  miraculously. 

The  sale  of  the  Tuscan  woman  in  the  field  of  olives 
was  curiously  providential  coming  when  it  did,  for 
Jim  himself  had  abandoned  all  hope  of  the  sea  for 
that  year.  Yet  neither  he  nor  his  mother  was 
really  surprised  that  a  corner  was  found  for  her 
in  one  of  the  lesser  reception  rooms  at  Cheriton 
House. 

"  It  is  a  great  bargain,"  said  Jim's  mother. 
"  Really  she  is  worth  so  much  more." 

"  A  modest  fiver  represents  her  merits,"  said  Jim, 
who  was  without  illusions  upon  the  subject. 

Nevertheless  Jim  and  his  mother  proposed  to  spend 
a  whole  month  in  Normandy  upon  the  proceeds  of  the 
sale.  Cheriton,  who  had  inherited  a  certain  quantity 
of  suppressed  gout  along  with  the  ancestral  acres, 
made  his  annual  pilgrimage  to  Harrogate  to  drink 
the  waters ;  and  the  Hill  Street  menage  was  removed 
to  a  dilapidated  fortress  in  Wales.  And  it  was  to 
this  retreat,  by  a  signal  act  of  grace,  of  which  few 
would  have  suspected  its  authoress  to  be  capable,  that 
Muffin  was  summoned  from  Slocum  Magna  to  spend 
a  fortnight  with  her  sister,  "  who,  all  things  con- 
sidered, had  been  a  good  girl." 

Miss  Perry  wept  large  round  tears  of  delight  when 
she  communicated  this  glad  news  to  Tobias.  That 
stay  of  her  solitude  had,  by  the  guilty  connivance  of 
Miss  Burden,  been  provided  during  the  second  week 
of  his  sojourn  in  the  vast  metropolis  with  a  more 


MUFFIN  AT  PEN-/-GROS  CASTLE      297 

hygienic  and  commodious  structure  than  a  wicker 
basket. 

Muffin  arrived  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  on  a  sultry 
August  afternoon,  in  a  somewhat  antiquated  fly  which 
took  an  hour  to  come  from  the  railway  station  at  a 
place  called  Dwygyfy,  or  words  to  that  effect.  It 
appeared  that  the  train  was  due  to  arrive  at  that 
center  of  civilization  at  seven  o'clock  the  previous 
evening,  but  for  some  mysterious  reason  did  not  ar- 
rive there  until  the  next  day.  At  least,  according 
to  Muffin's  thrilling  narrative  of  her  adventures  upon 
the  Cambrian  railway,  she  had  found  herself  at  a 
quarter  to  eleven  the  previous  night  at  a  place  called 
Llan-something,  where  they  have  the  mountains,  with 
only  four  shillings  and  ninepence  in  her  chain  purse, 
together  with  a  return  ticket  from  Dwygyfy,  and  a 
canary  in  a  whicker  cage,  which  she  had  brought  from 
Slocum  Magna  for  Aunt  Caroline. 

However,  "  All's  well  that  ends  well,"  as  Shake- 
speare says.  Muffin  accepted  the  situation  in  the 
philosophical  spirit  for  which  she  had  already 
acquired  a  reputation.  She  curled  herself  upon  three 
chairs  in  the  first-class  waiting-room  at  the  railway 
station  at  Llan-something,  w^ith  Polly's  luggage  bas- 
ket for  her  pillow  and  the  canary  by  her  side,  and  she 
awoke  just  in  time  to  catch  the  train  to  Dwygyfy 
about  noon  the  next  day. 

Muffin's  hair  was  not  quite  so  yellow  as  her  sister's. 
Her  eyes  were  not  quite  so  blue ;  her  appetite  was  not 
quite  so  big;  her  physique  not  quite  so  stupendous. 
Nor  was  her  drawl  quite  so  ridiculous ;  she  was  not 


298  ARAMINTA 

quite  such  a  "  silly  " ;  but  her  nature  was  equally 
docile  and  responsive.  When  Muffin  arrived  in  tri- 
umph, wearing  her  wonderful  adventures  like  a 
heroine  in  a  romance,  Aunt  Caroline  was  in  her  bou- 
doir. In  a  former  and  more  warlike  epoch  it  had 
been  the  armory,  but  it  was  now  transformed  by  the 
art  of  Waring  and  Maple  into  a  most  comfortable 
sanctuary  where  an  old  devote  could  tell  her  beads. 
Not  that  the  occupant  of  the  boudoir  was  thus  en- 
gaged, when  Miss  Perry  led  her  sister  proudly  by  the 
hand,  canary  and  all,  into  the  presence  of  her  august 
and  formidable  relation. 

"  Aunt  Caroline,  this  is  Muffin !  "  announced  that 
Featherbrain,  breathlessly.     "  Isn't  she  a  sweet.?  " 

Aunt  Caroline  put  up  her  glass  in  her  time-honored 
manner.  But  there  was  something  about  Muffin  that 
disarmed  her.  Whether  it  was  Muffin  herself,  or  her 
famous  mauve,  which,  although  in  its  third  season, 
and  decidedly  rumpled  owing  to  long  exposure  on  the 
Cambrian  railway,  was  certainly  very  becoming,  or 
whether  it  was  the  canary,  or  her  charming  docility, 
or  her  candor  and  simplicity,  it  would  be  wrong  to 
say  positively,  but  Aunt  Caroline  accepted  the  pres- 
ent and  a  most  cordial  embrace  in  the  spirit  in  which 
they  were  proffered. 

"  I  have  brought  you  this.  Aunt  Caroline,"  said 
Muffin,  "  because  you  have  been  so  kind  to  Araminta, 
and  because  it  is  so  dear  of  you  to  have  me." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  Aunt  Caroline. 

Aunt  Caroline  actually  said,  "  My  dear !  " 

Certainly  it  may  have  been  that  a  recent  illness 


MUFFIN  AT  PEN-r-GROS  CASTLE       299 

had  lowered  her  vitaHty ;  yet  it  is  hard  to  beheve  that 
that  can  have  been  really  the  case,  for  she  was  still  a 
very  resolute  minded  old  lady.  But  Miss  Burden  was 
amazed  that  she  should  permit  herself  such  an  un- 
paralleled license  of  expression.  Ponto  was  also.  In- 
deed, he  appeared  to  resent  it,  for  he  sat  up  and 
looked  daggers  at  the  canary.  Dogs  are  so  jealous, 
pugs  particularly. 

In  every  way  Muffin's  fortnight  was  a  great  suc- 
cess. She  took  the  frankest  pleasure  in  ascending 
mountains,  bestriding  waterfalls,  in  leaping  chasms, 
in  descending  precipices,  and  in  tearing  her  frock  on 
the  slightest  possible  pretext.  Not  her  mauve,  of 
course.  The  piece  de  resistance  of  her  extremely  lim- 
ited wardrobe  was  kept  in  reserve  for  high  days  and 
holy  days.  But  she  gave  up  the  golden  hours  to  the 
sheer  delight  of  soaking  her  shoes  and  stockings  in 
sloughs  and  mud  and  watercourses  which  an  unerring 
instinct  enabled  her  to  discover  in  the  most  unlikely 
places ;  in  rending  her  garments — second  best,  of 
course,  so  they  really  did  not  matter — in  tearing  her 
fingers  upon  briars  and  boulders  and  furze-bushes ; 
and  in  using  the  brand  new  straw  the  general  out- 
fitter at  Slocum  Magna  had  supplied  her  with  for  the 
sum  of  one  shilling  and  elevenpence  halfpenny — there 
is  only  one  price  for  straw  hats  at  Slocum  Magna 
provided  you  pay  cash — to  convey  rare  ferns  and 
recherche  specimens  of  the  fauna  and  flora  of  the 
neighborhood. 

Muffin  was  a  singularly  learned  creature.  She 
could  tell  you  who  was  the  lawful  owner  of  the  pink 


300  ARAMINTA 

egg  with  brown  spots,  or  the  gray  egg  with  cream 
ones.  She  could  point  out  the  tracks  of  the  w^easel; 
she  could  discern  where  a  squirrel  lurked  among  the 
foliage  when  the  ordinary  person  would  have  been 
baffled  completely.  She  was  familiar  with  the  habits 
and  appearance  of  the  stoat.  Every  tree  and  bush 
enabled  her  to  unfold  her  knowledge.  Not  only  did  it 
embrace  all  the  objects  in  nature,  but  also  she  had  a 
passion  for  collecting  every  wayside  flower  and  every 
herb  that  grew. 

Her  store  of  information  and  her  desire  for  its 
acquisition  were  not  confined  to  dry  land  merely.  In 
the  numerous  rills  and  small  lakes  in  which  the  moun- 
tains abounded  she  spent  many  choice  hours.  Some- 
times she  removed  her  shoes  and  stockings ;  sometimes 
she  did  not.  It  depended  upon  whether  she  happened 
to  remember  that  she  was  wearing  these  encumbrances 
before  wading  in  in  search  of  trout  or  minnows  or 
mere  botanical  knowledge.  However,  as  became  a 
natural  leader  of  fashion  at  Slocum  Magna,  she  gen- 
erally contrived  in  some  sort  to  kilt  her  dress. 

In  all  undertakings  of  this  character,  whether  by 
flood  or  field.  Muffin  was  pre-eminent.  But  it  must 
be  said  that  her  sister  Goose  was  a  very  willing,  as- 
siduous, and  by  no  means  inefficient  lieutenant.  Of 
course  one  so  accomplished  as  Muffin  despised  her 
attainments  really.  For  instance,  she  was  never  ab- 
solutely clear  as  to  which  was  a  weasel  and  which 
was  a  stoat,  and  whether  a  plover  made  a  whirr  with 
its  wing  like  a  partridge,  and  which  kind  of  fish  it 
was  that  herons   cared  for  most  particularly;  but 


MUFFIN  AT  PEN-Y-GROS  CASTLE       301 

(joose,  although  rather  a  "  silly,"  was  full  to  the 
brim  with  zeal  and  docility.  Docility  was,  indeed, 
her  great  characteristic.  She  was  incapable  of  ques- 
tioning the  most  arbitrary  command  of  her  natural 
superior. 

Ehzabeth  was  Muffin's  name  in  baptism,  and  that, 
of  course,  was  the  name  Aunt  Caroline  called  her  by. 
From  the  moment  of  her  arrival,  as  you  have  seen, 
her  august  relation  relented  towards  her.  Why  she 
should  have  done  so  baffled  all  who  had  an  expert 
knowledge  of  the  character  of  that  old  woman.  Per- 
haps she  felt  instinctively  that  there  was  something 
in  Elizabeth.  If  that  was  the  case,  her  instinct  did 
not  lead  her  astray. 

There  was  certainly  no  guile  in  Muffin.  But  she 
had  a  way  with  her.  She  was  a  very  handsome  girl 
too,  although  whether  she  was  of  the  style  to  take  the 
town,  as  her  sister  had  done,  is  perhaps  a  matter  for 
conjecture.  But  for  some  reason  Aunt  Caroline  took 
to  her  from  the  beginning.  She  even  deigned  on  fine 
m.ornings  to  accompany  Elizabeth  into  the  woods 
which  enfolded  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  on  every  side,  walk- 
ing quite  nimbly  with  the  aid  of  her  stick,  and  with 
Ponto  waddling  beside  her.  She  would  endure  Eliza- 
beth's discourse  upon  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the 
beasts  of  the  field;  and  she  would  even  go  to  the 
length  of  carrying  personally  the  specimens  Eliza- 
beth selected  of  the  flora  of  the  district.  And  the 
manner  in  which  Elizabeth  navigated  the  lake  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  or  the  stream  at  the  back  of 
the  castle,  filled  her  with  amusement. 


302  ARAMINTA 

Two  days  before  the  fortnight  was  at  an  end  Aunt 
Carohne  did  a  thing  without  precedent.  She  actually 
invited  Muffin  to  stay  a  fortnight  longer.  Muffin 
crowed  with  delight  when  she  received  the  invitation. 
She  adored  her  sister  Goose  for  one  thing.  Each  had 
brought  up  the  other,  and  neither  had  a  thought 
which  the  other  did  not  share.  And  in  her  fearless 
and  impulsive  way  Muffin  had  formed  in  her  own 
mind  an  ardently  idealist  picture  of  her  formidable 
relation.  And  neither  good  report  nor  ill  could  pos- 
sibly disturb  it. 

"  The  girl  has  sense,  Burden,"  said  Aunt  Caroline, 
on  the  day  the  edict  was  issued  that  Elizabeth  was  to 
remain  a  fortnight  longer  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle. 
"  She  appears  to  favor  me  much  more  than  she  does 
Polly.  I  think  George  Betterton  ought  to  see  her. 
Bring  me  some  ink  and  a  pen  with  a  broad  point." 

There  and  then  this  old  lady  of  ripe  years  com- 
posed a  letter  for  the  benefit  of  the  Duke  of  Bran- 
caster  in  a  hand  that  was  remarkably  firm  and  full  of 
character. 

Pen-y-Gros  Castle,  North  Wales,  25  August,  190— 
Dear  Geouge, — If  you  are  returned  from 
Homhurg,  come  and  spend  a  wee'k-end  here. 
Wales  is  looking  very  well  just  now,  and  the  lake 
is  full  of  trout.  I  should  like  you  to  have  your 
revenge  at  piquet. 

Believe  me, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Caroline  Crewkerne. 


MUFFIN  AT  PEN-f-GROS  CASTLE 

No  sooner  had  this  letter  been  composed  than  the 
Fates  themselves  began  to  take  an  active  interest  in 
affairs.  The  air  in  that  particular  corner  of  the 
Welsh  Principality  became  charged  with  magnetism. 

The  letter  to  George  Betterton  had  scarcely  been 
posted  an  hour  when  a  communication  bearing  the 
Harrogate  postmark  was  delivered  to  the  Countess  of 
Crewkerne,  Pen-y-Gros  Castle.     It  said — 

My  Dear  Caroline, — Having  effected  my 
annual  cure,  and  feeling  in  consequence  im- 
measurably the  better  able  in  mind  and  body  to 
cope  with  the  things  of  this  world,  I  have  pro- 
posed to  myself  to  spend  the  week-end  with  you 
in  your  Welsh  fastness.  You  will  be  interested 
to  learn  that  I  have  given  a  certain  matter  the 
most  anxious  and  careful  consideration,  which  I 
do  not  need  to  remind  you  is  demanded  by  its 
highly  critical  nature.  I  am  now  in  a  position 
to  make  a  definite  offer,  provided  there  has  been 
no  foreclosure. 

I  remain,  my  dear  Caroline, 

Always  yours,  Chemton. 

Having  read  this  letter  twice  very  carefully,  the 
recipient  proceeded  to  tear  it  up  into  small  pieces. 
There  was  a  dangerous  light  in  her  eye. 

"  Humph !  "  said  she,  ominously.  "  I  am  not  sure, 
Cheriton,  that  you  have  not  overstayed  your  market." 

All  the  same,  the  second  communication  did  not 
appear  wholly  to  displease  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
addressed. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

EPISODE    OF    A    FRENCH    NOVEL    AND    A    RED 
UMBRELLA 

IT  was  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  Saturday 
that  Cheriton  arrived  at  Pen-j-Gros  Castle  by 
the  station  fly  from  Dwygyfy.  George  Betterton 
had  arrived  at  the  same  hour  the  previous  afternoon, 
and  by  the  same  medium  of  travel.  Cheriton  was 
received  by  his  hostess  without  any  excess  of  cordial- 
ity. Her  demeanor  implied  that  any  person  of  either 
sex  who  presumed  to  try  a  fall  with  her  did  so  at  his 
or  her  peril. 

The  other  members  of  the  party  were  in  the  woods, 
and  after  Cheriton  had  taken  some  slight  refresh- 
ment, the  August  evening  being  extremely  beautiful. 
Miss  Burden  and  he  went  to  join  them.  The  party 
consisted  merely  of  George  Betterton,  the  wonderful 
Miss  Perry,  and  the  accomplished  Miss  Elizabeth. 
Miss  Burden  had  been  enjoined  strictly  beforehand 
not  to  disclose  the  presence  of  either  of  the  new- 
comers. 

"How  is  our  delectable  Miss  Goose?"  said  Cher- 
iton, poetically.  "  Transformed,  I  am  sure,  into  a 
woodland  creature  or  a  spirit  of  the  mountains." 

Three  or  four  hundred  yards  along  the  wooded 
304 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  305 

path  which  led  from  the  Castle  to  the  wild  hills  was 
a  shallow  lake.  It  was  formed  by  a  number  of  tiny 
streams  that  trickled  down  from  the  mountains. 
Small  wonder  was  it  to  find  that  an  artist  had  erected 
liis  easel  in  this  picturesque  place.  It  was  indeed  an 
ideal  spot,  in  which  nature  attained  to  great  majesty 
and  perfection,  and  the  August  evening  matched  it. 
Hardly  a  cloud  ringed  the  noble  head  of  Gwydr  in 
the  middle  distance. 

A  glance  in  passing  at  the  artist's  canvas  rendered 
it  clear  to  Cheriton  and  Miss  Burden  that  the  painter 
was  not  really  so  much  absorbed  in  the  scenery  as 
he  ought  to  have  been.  It  seemed  that  a  youthful, 
yellow-haired,  blue-eyed  nymph,  whose  physical  pro- 
portions were  yet  not  exactly  those  of  a  fairy,  was 
standing  barefooted  in  the  lake.  Her  dress,  which 
was  torn  in  at  least  twenty-four  places,  was  kilted 
up  just  out  of  reach  of  the  water.  In  one  hand  she 
held  a  collection  of  the  fauna  and  flora  of  Lake 
Dwygy;  by  means  of  the  other  she  was  seeking  dili- 
gently to  add  to  their  number.  The  yellow  hair  was 
tumbled  all  about  her  extremely  frank  and  sunburnt 
countenance.  The  sleeves  of  a  sorely  rent  and  be- 
draggled garment  were  tucked  up  to  the  elbows ;  and 
a  remarkably  characteristic  form  of  headgear,  pre- 
serving the  outward  appearance  of  a  cucumber  bas- 
ket, sagged  about  her  ears  in  a  preposterously  becom- 
ing manner. 

Cheriton  was  a  rather  short-sighted  man.  There- 
fore he  is  to  be  excused  for  falling  into  a  natural 
error. 


306  ARAMINTA 

"  A  naiad,  I  perceive,"  said  he,  with  his  great 
air. 

Muffin  was  by  no  means  abashed  by  the  courtHness 
of  my  lord.  She  made  a  sort  of  courtesy,  which  had 
quite  an  eighteenth-century  savor  about  it  in  its 
quaintness,  its  dignity,  its  grace,  and  its  simplicity. 
Unfortunately,  however,  the  performance  of  it  in- 
volved the  hem  of  her  garments  in  the  watery  element. 

"  I  am  Muffin,"  said  she,  as  though  she  took  a 
simple  pride  in  that  fact.  "  Did  you  think  I  was 
Goose.?" 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  my  dear  Miss  Muffin,"  said 
Cheriton,  although  it  was  tolerably  clear  that  neither 
Miss  Muffin  nor  himself  felt  that  an  apology  was 
demanded  by  the  circumstances. 

"  They  call  me  Muffin,  you  know,"  said  that  art- 
less person,  wringing  the  water  out  of  her  skirts  with 
wonderful  insouciance.  "  But  my  name  is  Elizabeth, 
really.  And  you  are  Lord  Something,  are  you 
not?" 

"  My  name  is  Cheriton,"  said  that  nobleman.  He 
scrutinized  the  naiad  with  a  cool  and  complacent 
glance. 

"  It  is  so  dear  of  you,"  said  she,  "  to  be  so  good  to 
Goose." 

"  My  dear  young  lady !  " 

"  Lord  Cheriton  is  so  good  to  everybody,"  said  a 
pleasant  and  manly  voice.  "  But,  unfortunately,  he 
is  ruining  my  picture." 

Cheriton  turned  to  confront  Jim  Lascelles. 

"  Why,  Lascelles,  m}^  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  "  what 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  307 

right  have  you  here?  Your  place  is  in  Normandy 
with  your  mother." 

"  She  is  here,"  said  Jim.  "  We  came  on  Wednes- 
day." 

"  Either  this  is  a  very  singular  coincidence,"  said 
Cheriton,  "  or  you  are  making  uncommonly  rapid 
strides  in  your  art." 

"  Coincidence  it  is  not,"  said  Jim.  "We  spent 
three  delightful  weeks  in  Normandy,  and  then  the 
scenery  began  to  get  flat  and  the  people  primitive 
and  angular.  And  as  Borrow  says  that  there  are 
mountains  in  Wales,  and  that  its  inhabitants  are 
noted  for  their  picturesqueness,  we  really  felt  that  a 
week  here  would  not  be  wasted." 

"  Lascelles,"  said  his  patron,  gravely,  "  I  shall  not 
live  to  see  it,  but  it  is  increasingly  clear  to  my  mind 
that  one  day  you  will  be  president  of  the  Royal 
Academy." 

"  My  mother  appears  to  think  so,"  said  Jim, 
modestly. 

That  lady  was  to  be  seen  coming  round  the  lake 
towards  the  easel.  She  picked  her  way  from  stone 
to  stone  in  the  daintiest  manner,  for  quagmires 
abounded.  Jim  felt  quite  proud  of  her,  she  looked 
so  admirable  in  her  cool,  green  frock.  She  carried 
a  French  novel  and  a  red  umbrella.  No  sooner  did 
Muffin  observe  her  than  she  gave  a  crow  of  pleasure 
and  waded  forth  to  meet  her. 

Cheriton's  gaze  was  long  and  particular. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  he,  "  they  appear  to  grow 
goddesses  at  Slocum  Magna." 


308  ARAM  I  NT  A 

"  And  the  vicinity,"  said  Jim. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  fellow ;  certainly  the  vicinity. 
We  take  that  for  granted." 

The  greeting  of  Jim's  mother  was  extremely 
cordial. 

"  This  is  indeed  an  unlooked-for  pleasure,"  said 
Cheriton. 

"  Am  I  to  be  censured,"  said  Jim's  mother, "  for  urg- 
ing my  gifted  son  to  follow  the  bent  of  his  genius?  " 

"  By  no  means,"  said  Cheriton.  "  If  he  really  felt 
that  the  Welsh  mountains  and  their  picturesque  in- 
habitants were  calling  him,  it  is  most  right.  Velas- 
quez would  not  have  been  Velasquez  had  he  not  obeyed 
the  call  to  Italy." 

"  I  blame  that  Goose,"  said  Jim's  mother,  severely. 
"  She  must  write  to  say  that  they  had  got  Muffin  at 
Pen-y-Gros,  as  well  as  the  mountains.  He  gave  up 
painting  his  Normandy  peasant  girls  on  the  day  he 
received  the  letter." 

"  May  I  ask  one  question.  Miss  Muffin  ?  "  said 
Cheriton.     "  Have  you  brought  your  mauve.?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Muffin.  "  But  it  is  not  good  for 
water." 

"  I  presume,"  said  Cheriton,  "  that  water  is  not 
good  for  it." 

Muffin  proceeded  to  wring  a  little  more  moisture 
out  of  her  nether  garments.  She  gave  them  an  ad- 
ditional kilt,  and  began  to  come  ashore. 

"  Keep  in,"  said  Jim  Lascelles,  in  a  tone  that 
brooked  no  denial.  "  Keep  those  Foot  Pieces  covered 
or  you  will  iniin  everything." 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  309 

"  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  "  I  seem  to  re- 
member that  jou  have  a  natural  eye  for  scenery.  I 
think  I  remarked  it  when  you  read  the  second  chapter 
of  your  novel.  Unfortunately,  my  own  powers  of 
vision  are  so  limited  that  I  am  not  always  able  to 
detect  good  scenery  when  I  meet  it.  Those  tall  things 
are  mountains,  are  they  not.?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  we  have  the  authority  of  Borrow 
that  they  are,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles. 

"  Capital,"  said  Cheriton,  "  and,  as  I  am  afraid 
our  presence  here  interferes  with  the  nice  conduct  of 
a  masterpiece,  do  you  mind  showing  me  how  to  walk 
upon  them.'^  It  is  reckoned  a  good  thing,  I  believe, 
for  one  to  be  able  to  say  one  has  walked  upon  the 
mountains." 

Accompanied  by  the  French  novel  and  the  red 
umbrella,  Cheriton  picked  his  way  along  the  margin 
of  Lake  Dwygy  in  patent  leathers  with  box-cloth 
uppers.  It  was  a  beauteous  evening,  calm  and  free. 
Not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard  except  the  muffled  mur- 
mur of  the  tiny  wavelets  washing  the  pebbles  upon 
which  they  walked.  Occasionally,  they  heard  the  call 
of  a  wood  pigeon  from  the  dense  black  mass  behind 
them,  embowering  the  hamlet  of  Pen-y-Gros.  Once 
Mrs.  Lascelles  thought  she  detected  the  pipe  of  the 
curlew.  Facing  them  was  the  gigantic  Gwydr,  with 
the  August  sunset  beginning  to  peer  over  his  shoulder. 
His  majesty  was  crowned  with  a  glory  that  was  older 
than  he. 

The  naiad  and.  the  painter's  easel  were  hidden  now 
by  a  bend  of  the  lake.     They  were  out  of  sight  and 


810  ARAMINTA 

out  of  hearing  too.  The  red  umbrella  rested  on  a 
large  and  smooth  piece  of  slate,  raised  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  it  formed  an  ideal  seat  for  two  persons. 
The  two  admirers  of  nature's  majesty  were  gazing 
around  them  at  the  immensity  of  things.  Neither 
spoke  for  a  little  while.  It  may  have  been  awe  that 
enfolded  them ;  on  the  contrary,  it  may  have  been  a 
slight  fatigue.  For  at  least  all  experience  tends  to 
teach  that  French  novels,  red  umbrellas,  and  patent 
leather  boots  with  box-cloth  uppers  are  more  sus- 
ceptible to  the  latter  emotion  than  they  are  to  the 
former.  Still,  it  is  not  to  be  controverted  that  Cher- 
iton  sighed  profoundly. 

"  If  I  were  that  fellow  Rousseau,"  said  he,  "  I 
think  I  should  want  to  sit  down  and  write  something." 

"  Doubtless  you  would  have  done  so,"  said  the 
custodian  of  the  red  umbrella,  "  had  you  been  Rous- 
seau." 

She  sat  down  with  her  French  novel  on  the  smaller 
half  of  the  fragment  of  slate.  She  looked  dehciously 
cool  and  trim  in  her  green  linen  frock,  embellished 
by  a  hat  with  a  wide  brim,  which  a  Breton  peasant 
woman  had  plaited  for  her  the  summer  before  last. 
It  had  a  piece  of  blue  crepe  twisted  round  it.  Did 
she  know  that  she  was  looking  well,  or  had  she  really 
persuaded  herself  that  she  was  wholly  absorbed  in 
high  thoughts  about  nature  .-^ 

"  Or  were  you  Wordsworth  you  would  feel  the 
same,  possibly,"  said  the  fair  inhabitant  of  the  green 
frock. 

Pour  encourager   milor.?     Well,   really,   who   can 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  311 

say  ?  The  emotions  of  a  French  novel,  a  red  umbrella, 
and  a  green  linen  frock  with  a  twist  of  blue  crepe  are 
so  complex.  Nature  is  complex  also.  There  was 
Gwydr  straight  before  them  with  the  sun  dying  upon 
his  left  shoulder.  His  lesser  brethren  were  already 
veiled  in  shadow.  The  lake  had  the  luster  of  a  dark 
jewel;  the  sky  was  opal;  and  scarcely  two  hundred 
paces  distant,  behind  that  line  of  boulders,  the  great 
things  of  art  were  toward. 

Although  the  wearer  of  the  patent-leather  boots 
with  box-cloth  uppers  was  neither  Rousseau  nor 
Wordsworth,  he  sat  down  gracefully  upon  the  larger 
half  of  the  slate,  after  dusting  it  carefully  with  a 
yellow  silk  handkerchief. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  had  I  been  Rousseau  I  should 
have  sat  here  indubitably  and  have  written  about 
nature.  But  had  I  been  Wordsworth  I  should 
have  sat  here  and  thought  about  nature.  There  is  a 
difference." 

Jim's  mother  agreed  that  there  was. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  she,  "  if  nature  holds  an  opinion 
about  us.f'  When  one  finds  her  like  this  one  feels 
that  she  must  be  indifferent  to  everything." 

"  That  weird  fellow  Gautier  might  have  agreed 
with  you,"  said  Cheriton,  "  and,  to  my  mind, 
he  had  a  good  head.  '  Ouf ! '  he  used  to  say, 
*  nature  reminds  me  of  your  Shakespeare.  Every 
day  she  makes  a  new  masterpiece.  And  then  she 
says,  Ouf!  it  doesn't  interest  me,  and  she  makes 
another.' " 

"  Heedless  of  its  destiny  !  " 


312  ARAMINTA 

"  Rightly,  I  think.  A  masterpiece  can  always 
take  care  of  itself.  Can  you  guess  what  Gautier 
would  have  done  had  he  sat  here.?  " 

"  Smoked  a  cigarette,"  said  Jim's  mother. 

"  Precisely.  He  was  so  rational.  Will  you  try 
one.?" 

Cheriton  offered  his  case. 

"  I  will,  with  pleasure,  if  you  will  try  one  of  these," 
said  the  wearer  of  the  green  frock,  producing  her  own 
cigarette  case.  "  They  are  not  so  expensive  as  yours, 
but  they  will  be  better  for  you." 

"  Pourquoi?  One  finds  it  so  hard  to  accept  the  less 
expensive  things  in  life." 

"  If  one  grows  too  much  of  a  Sybarite,"  said  Jim's 
mother,  taking  a  sententious  puff  of  her  Egyptian 
cigarette,  "  one  is  apt  to  lose  one's  touch." 

"  That  is  so  true,"  said  Cheriton,  with  a  display  of 
feeling  that  seemed  almost  unnecessary.  "  The  only 
really  unhappy  man  I  ever  knew  was  a  chap  who  had 
the  misfortune  to  ruin  his  palate  with  old  brandy." 

There  would  have  been  silence  had  it  not  been  for 
the  rooks.  Jim's  mother  again  thought  she  detected 
the  pipe  of  the  curlew.  The  sun  had  dipped  a  little 
closer  to  Gwydr's  shoulder. 

"  A  penny  for  your  thoughts,  Mrs.  Lascelles." 

Jim's  mother  started  perceptibly. 

"  I  was  thinking,"  she  said — "  I  was  thinking 
about  my  son." 

"  I  had  guessed  it." 

"Really!" 

*'  Yes,  you  looked  so  maternal.     In  the  true  sense, 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  313 

of  course.  There  was  such  a  spirituality  in  your 
eyes,  if  I  may  so  express  myself." 

"  I  am  so  anxious  about  his  future,"  said  she,  re- 
moving her  cigarette  from  her  lips  with  simplicity 
and  with  solicitude.  As  she  did  this,  Cheriton  took 
occasion  to  observe  that  her  eyes  were  gt"ay.  Strictly 
speaking,  her  face  did  not  obey  the  regular  canons  of 
beauty.  Her  features  were  a  little  haphazard.  But 
it  was  a  face  admirable  alike  for  sense  and  for  anima- 
tion. Cheriton,  who  plumed  himself  upon  being 
something  of  a  connoisseur  of  the  human  countenance, 
felt  that  there  was  a  great  deal  in  it. 

"  Why  anxious  ?  "  said  he.  "  His  future  can  take 
care  of  itself." 

"  I  will  tell  you  something.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said 
Jim's  mother,  with  great  earnestness,  "  if  I  may." 

"  I  am  overwhelmed  with  honor." 

"  There  is  a  w^retched  girl."  There  was  a  look  of 
dismay  in  eyes  that  were  admirably  gray  and 
solicitous. 

"  The  dooce !  "  said  my  lord. 

"  He  can  think  of  nothing  else,  and  really  I  don't 
know  what  will  be  the  end  of  it." 

"  Do  you  approve  of  her.?  "  When  all  was  said, 
Cheriton  considered  perfect  practicality  to  be  his 
most  eminent  virtue. 

"  She  is  too  far  away.  It  would  not  be  fair  to  her. 
I  am  afraid  I  have  been  weak  and  foohsh."  Feminine 
humility  is  always  pleasant  to  some  people.  "  You 
see,  she  meant  so  much  to  my  son  that  at  first  I  had 
not  the  courage  to  look  the  facts  in  the  face.     And 


314  ARAMINTA 

now  that  at  last  I  have  done  so  I  fear  it  Is  too  late 
to  repair  the  mischief." 

"  The  mischief !  "  said  Cheriton,  cocking  his  ears 
at  the  word. 

"  He  has  asked  the  girl  to  marry  him,  you  know, 
and  she  has  consented." 

"  Capital." 

"  No,  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim's  mother,  w4th  a 
little  catch  in  her  voice ;  "  it  is  far  from  being  that. 
It  is  not  in  the  least  right  that  she  should  marry 
him.  It  is  not  in  the  least  right  that  he  should  have 
asked  her." 

In  some  subtle  way,  so  fine  are  the  gradations  of 
vanity,  Cheriton  felt  himself  to  be  honored  by  the 
grave  vehemence  of  Jim's  mother.  Her  tone  was  al- 
most tragic.  Had  the  gray  eyes  been  accustomed  to 
the  use  of  tears  there  is  little  doubt  they  would  have 
shed  them.  She  continued  to  honor  this  parcel  of 
vanities  with  her  maternal  confidence. 

"  I  smiled  at  first,"  she  continued.  "  I  am  afraid 
I  encouraged  him  a  little.  I  felt  it  might  help  his 
art." 

"  Ah !  "  murmured  Cheriton,  with  his  eyeglass  fixed   : 
upon  Gwydr. 

"  I  didn't  realize  the  danger." 

"  Ah,  you  should,"  said  Cheriton,  looking  at  Gwydr 
most  sagaciously.  "  One  is  ready  to  believe  that  the 
art  of  our  young  friend  was  helped  amazingly ;  but 
then,  unfortunately,  Vart  c'est  Vliomme.'^ 

"  I  have  been  so  wicked,"  said  Jim's  mother. 

"  Imprudent,  shall  we  say.^  "  said  Cheriton,  with  a 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  315 

paternal  glance  at  the  picture  of  attractive  distress 
that  was  seated  beside  him.  "  You  toyed  with  a  bar- 
rel of  gunpowder  and  a  lighted  torch,  and  you  found 
them  combustible." 

"  They  are  hopelessly  in  love,"  said  Jim's  mother, 
miserably. 

"  The  dooce !     Both  of  'em.?  " 

"  She  is  quite  as  bad  as  he.  Girls  are  such  stupid 
creatures." 

"  I  have  always  found  them  so,"  said  Chsriton. 

"  The  wretched  creature  ought  to  have  seen  from 
the  first  that  a  struggling  artist  who  lives  with  his 
old  mother  at  Balham  cannot  possibly  marry  her." 

"Why  not.?" 

"  Her  prospects  are  so  splendid,"  said  Jim's 
mother,  vehemently. 

Cheriton  assumed  his  gravest  air. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  he,  "  do  you  assure 
me  seriously  that  the  splendid  nature  of  the  young 
lady's  prospects  renders  her  unfit  for  your  son.?" 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Jim's  mother ;  "  I  would  not  say 
that  exactly.     That  is " 

"  Precisely,"  said  Cheriton.  "  That  is  the  point  I 
wished  to  elucidate.  It  seemed  to  me  so  painfully 
unmaternal  that  a  woman  and  a  mother  should  con- 
sider a  girl  too  good  for  her  son.  My  dear  Mrs.  Las- 
celles, if  you  will  condescend  to  heed  the  advice  of  an 
amateur  you  will  see  that  your  son  marries  her.  If 
girls  will  be  so  stupid  they  must  take  the  conse- 
quences." 

"  Do  you  really  think  I  ought  ?  " 


316  ARAMINTA 

"  You  know  you  ought,  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  Cher- 
iton,  almost  sternly.  "  And  you  know  that  you  will. 
It  is  the  least  that  a  woman  and  a  mother  can  do." 

The  mother  of  Jim  Lascelles  sighed  deeply. 

"  Yes,  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  I  am  afraid  you 
are  right." 

The  gray  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Gwydr.  But  Gwydr 
appeared  to  frown  upon  them. 

How  long  Jim's  mother  and  Lord  Cheriton  sat  on 
the  round  slab  of  slate  by  the  marge  of  Lake  Dwygy 
is  not  really  material  to  this  history.  But  the  sun 
was  drooping  lower  upon  the  left  shoulder  of  Gwydr, 
and  the  shadows  were  creeping  down  from  the  formi- 
dable chasm  of  the  Devil's  Footstool  and  across  the 
black  tinted  water.  Around  a  buttress  of  rock  a 
punt  glided  into  view.  It  was  propelled  by  a  pole 
and  contained  two  persons. 

The  foremost  of  these,  who  stood  in  the  bows 
manipulating  the  pole,  was  a  blue-eyed  and  yellow- 
haired  Amazon,  bare-armed  and  bareheaded.  Her 
cheeks  were  gay  with  color,  her  lips  with  laughter. 
Untrammeled  freedom  and  the  joy  of  living  were  to 
be  discerned  in  every  line  of  her  ample  person.  Be- 
side her  was  a  Homburg  hat  with  a  Guards'  ribbon. 

"  That  fellow !  "  said  the  male  occupant  of  the  slab 
of  slate. 

Clearly  the  apparition  of  the  hat  was  not  expected 
by  the  author  of  the  exclamation.  Also  it  was  un- 
welcome to  him  if  his  tone  and  demeanor  truly  re- 
flected his  feelings.  George  came  ashore,  as  becomes 
a  man  of  nine-and-fifty,  with  an  ample  sense  of  re- 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  317 

sponsibility.  He  handed  Miss  Perry  out  of  the  punt 
with  an  air  of  ceremony,  and  insisted  upon  being  al- 
lowed to  affix  the  boat  to  its  moorings.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  take  a  survey  of  nature  in  her  magnificence 
and  her  immensity.  Then  he  gazed  up  at  the  daugh- 
ter of  nature  who  appeared  to  be  modeled  on  very 
similar  lines. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  he,  "  what  time  is  dinner  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  until  half -past  eight,"  said  a  drawl 
which  had  a  mournful  music  of  its  own.  "  Isn't  it 
late.?" 

"  That  man  is  a  barbarian,"  said  a  voice  in  the 
ear  of  Mrs.  Lascelles. 

"And  what  of  the  other  one.'^  "  inquired  she. 

"  She  is  a  goddess." 

"  Then  I  am  afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles,  with 
conviction,  "  that  she  is  a  barbarian  also.  I  never 
heard  of  a  goddess  who  wasn't." 

It  appeared  there  were  things  in  the  punt.  Nota- 
bly, a  rod  and  tackle  and  a  basket  containing  a  very 
tolerable  capture  of  trout. 

"  What  beauties !  "  said  Miss  Perry,  as  she  came 
ashore  with  the  basket.  "  If  I  run  with  them  straight 
to  the  cook,  perhaps  we  might  have  some  for  dinner." 

Miss  Perry,  who  was  surprisingly  fleet  of  foot,  was 
proceeding  to  put  this  design  into  execution  when 
she  came  full  upon  Mrs.  Lascelles  and  Lord  Cheriton. 
The  unexpected  presence  of  the  latter  appeared  to 
aff'ord  her  great  pleasure. 

"  It  is  so  nice  that  you  have  come,"  said  she,  with 
slow  breathlessness.    "  Muffin  is  here.    Have  you  seen 


318  ARAMINTA 

her?  Isn't  she  a  sweet?  And  aren't  these  trout 
beauties?  Gobo  caught  seven  and  I  caught  two.  I 
will  just  run  with  them  to  the  cook,  and  then  I  will 
find  Muffin." 

Before  Cheriton  could  find  an  opportunity  to  reply 
fittingly,  Miss  Perry  passed  on  to  Pen-y-Gros  Castle 
in  the  manner  of  a  heavy-footed  yet  distinctly  fast- 
moving  whirlwind. 

"  The  ridiculous  creature,"  said  Jim's  mother,  with 
a  laugh. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Cheriton,  "  that  our  won- 
derful Miss  Perry  develops  now  she  is  in  her  native 
element." 

George  Betterton,  having  moored  the  punt,  came 
up  along  the  pebbles.  He  carried  the  rod  and  tackle. 
His  tread  was  heavy,  and,  owing  to  his  recent  exer- 
tions, he  was  blowing  like  a  grampus.  He  seemed 
to  accept  the  presence  of  Cheriton  as  a  natural  corol- 
lary. They  greeted  one  another  with  the  reserve 
which  among  their  countrymen  is  held  to  be  the  guar- 
antee of  a  genuine  character. 

"  Fine  evenin',"  said  George. 

"  Fine  evening,"  said  Cheriton. 

"  For  fish,"  said  Jim's  mother.  "  They  appear  to 
have  bitten  beautifully." 

"  Caught  fourteen,"  said  George,  almost  with  ani- 
mation. "  If  they  average  an  ounce,  they  average 
two  pound  apiece." 

"  I  understood  Miss  Perry  to  say  you  had  caught 
nine,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles. 

"  Fourteen,"  said  George,  with  the  resolute  air  of  a 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  319 

man  who  does  not  brook  contradiction.  "  Where's 
the  gal  got  to?  " 

"  Little  Miss  Tucker  desires  trout  for  her  supper," 
said  Cheriton.  "  There  she  goes.  Leaps  the  boulders 
like  a  chamois,  by  gad !  " 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Cheriton,"  said  George,  "  that 
gal  can  handle  a  punt  with  the  best  of  'em.  She 
knows  how  to  throw  a  fly  too.  Very  sure  hand.  Un- 
commonly clever  gal  at  fishin'." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  said  Cheriton.  "  Three  min- 
nows in  a  net  one  would  expect  to  be  the  limit  of  her 
talent  in  the  delicate  art  of  Piscator." 

"  There  is  a  dear  little  trout  stream  behind  the 
Parsonage  at  Slocum  Magna,"  said  Mrs.  Lascelles, 
demurely. 

"  Seen  her  sister,  Cheriton .?  "  inquired  George. 
"  They  call  her  Crumpet.     Smart  young  gal." 

"  Muffin,  my  dear  fellow.  Muffin,''  said  liis  friend, 
in  a  tone  of  pained  expostulation. 

"  Smart  as  paint,"  said  George,  with  a  perilous 
approach  to  enthusiasm.  "  Makes  her  own  flies  and 
tackle,  and  can  find  as  much  bait  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  as  will  last  for  a  week." 

"  The  merits  of  a  good  upbringing,"  said  Cheriton, 
rising  from  the  slab  of  slate,  "  are  not  easily  to  be 
overestimated." 

Mrs.  Lascelles  also  rose.  All  three  strolled  by  the 
margin  of  the  lake  until  they  came  upon  the  easel. 
Jim  Lascelles  was  assiduously  utilizing  what  remained 
of  the  daylight.  There  was  still  a  glow  about 
Gwydr's  left  shoulder  which  was  reflected  upon  the 


320  ARAMINTA 

canvas.     Muffin  was  seated  on  the  pebbles,  compla- 
cently putting  on  her  shoes  and  stockings. 

"  Did  you  catch  anything  ?  "  she  demanded  of  the 
bearer  of  the  rod  and  tackle. 

"  Sixteen,"  said  that  sportsman,  robustly. 

"  How  splendid !     Do  let  me  see  them." 

"  You  will  have  to  wait  until  dinner,  my  dear,"  said 
George.     "  They  have  gone  to  the  pot." 

"  Good  progress,  Lascelles  ?  "  inquired  Cheriton, 
conducting  an  amused  examination  of  Jim's  labors. 

"  I  think  I  have  done  a  good  day's  work,"  said 
Jim,  packing  up  his  tools. 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  have.  I  must  have  the  refusal 
of  it  for  Cheriton  House.  By  the  way,  have  you 
heard  anything  from  my  friend  Kendal.?  " 

"  I  am  to  go  to  Yorkshire  in  the  autumn  to  paint 
Lady  Priscilla." 

"  Excellent !  And  remember,  if  Kendal  is  to  re- 
spect you,  your  price  must  be  not  a  penny  less  than 
five  hundred  guineas." 

As  the  party  turned  away  from  the  lake,  a  dryad 
emerged  from  the  wood,  breathless  and  bareheaded. 
She  had  three  trout  in  a  basket. 

"  It  will  be  all  right,"  she  announced.  "  We  shall 
have  them  for  dinner.  There  are  six,  one  apiece  for 
everybody  except  Ponto,  and  Miss  Burden  thinks 
trout  are  not  good  for  him.  And  I've  brought  three 
for  you,  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles." 

"  Then  you  are  a  very  noble  girl,"  said  Jim's 
mother,  "  and  I  highly  appreciate  your  act  of  self- 
sacrifice." 


A  FRENCH  NOVEL  AND  RED  UMBRELLA  321 

By  this  time  Muffin  had  resumed  her  shoes  and 
stockings  and  had  risen  from  the  pebbles.  Her  sister 
took  her  by  the  hand  and  led  her  forward  with  an 
air  of  the  most  admirable  simplicity. 

"  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  this  is  Muffin." 
"  I  am  already  honored,"  said  my  lord,  "  by  an 
acquaintance  which  I  shall  strive  to  cultivate." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

PARIS    ON    MOUNT    IDA 

MISS  PERRY  insisted  on  conducting  Jim  and 
his  mother  to  their  lodgings,  which  were  at  a 
small  cottage  in  Pen-y-Gros  hamlet.  She  was  afraid 
they  might  get  lost  in  the  wood.  Jim's  mother  took 
the  trout  within,  while  Jim  conducted  Miss  Perry 
back  to  the  gate  of  Pen-y-Gros  Castle.  It  seemed 
that  he  was  haunted  with  the  fear  that  in  the  gloom 
she  might  take  the  wrong  turning. 

The  Wargrave  coat-of-arms  was  engraved  on  a 
stone  pillar  at  the  castle  entrance.  They  leaned 
against  it.  The  evening  shadows  were  fast  blotting 
out  Gwydr  and  his  brethren. 

"  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  mournfully,  "  we  are  in 
pretty  deep  water,  you  and  I,  aren't  we.^^  " 

"  It  will  be  all  right,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry,  cheer- 
fully. "  You  are  sure  to  get  rich  painting  all  these 
pictures.  It  is  a  splendid  idea  to  paint  Muffin.  Her 
picture  will  be  worth  a  lot  of  money.  And  I  am  sure, 
when  you  are  rich,  Aunt  Caroline  will  let  me  marry 
you." 

Jim  shook  his  head  sorrowfully. 

"  Chaps  don't  often  get  rich  at  my  trade,"  said 
he ;  "  and  when  they  do,  they  don't  do  it  all  at  once. 
Now  suppose,  Goose  Girl,  I  did  not  get  rich.     Sup- 


PARIS  ON  MOUNT  IDA  323 

pose  I  was  only  just  able  to  rub  along  just  as  I  do 
now,  what  would  you  say  then  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  it  all  the  better,"  said  Miss  Perry, 
with  conviction,  "  because  then  I  shouldn't  have  to 
have  a  maid.  A  maid  loses  her  temper,  you  know,  if 
you  put  things  in  your  hat,  or  you  get  much  mud 
on  your  frock,  or  you  get  up  too  early." 

"  But  don't  you  see,  you  Goose,"  said  Jim,  "  that 
you  have  such  grand  prospects,  and  that  it  would  be 
such  a  great  thing  for  the  family  if  you  married  a 
swell." 

"  Would  it,  Jim  ?  "  said  Miss  Perry,  reluctantly. 

"  Of  course  it  would,  you  Goose." 

Miss  Perry  indulged  in  silence  and  reflection. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Jim,"  said  she.  "  And 
if  I  did  you  would  be  able  to  marry  Muffin,  and  that 
would  be  ever  so  much  nicer  for  you." 

Jim  gave  an  exclamation  of  impatience. 

"  Who  wants  to  marry  Muffin,  you  great  Goose  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  But,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry,  gravely,  "  she  is  such 
a " 

"  Never  mind  what  she  is,"  said  Jim.  "  I  have  my 
own  opinion  about  her.  I  want  to  marry  you,  and  I 
mean  to." 

In  spite  of  the  proximity  of  the  Wargrave  coat- 
of-arms,  Jim  Lascelles  thereupon  behaved  in  a  very 
imperious  and  heedless  manner.  He  encircled  the 
ample  form  of  Miss  Perry,  and  kissed  her  with  great 
boldness.  As  no  resistance  was  forthcoming,  he  re- 
peated the  operation. 


SM  ARAMINTA 

"  You  great  Goose,"  said  he. 

Whether  in  the  continued  absence  of  resistance  Jim 
Lascelles  would  have  persisted  in  this  behavior,  it  is 
hardly  right  to  conjecture;  for  at  this  moment  there 
came  an  interruption.  A  small,  round  quadruped 
came  waddling  through  the  gate  of  Pen-y-Gros  Cas- 
tle. His  tail  was  curled  up  in  a  most  cynical  man- 
ner, and,  with  eyes  swollen  with  baked  meats,  he 
gazed  about  him  with  the  insolence  of  a  feudal  lord. 

"  Aunt  Caroline,"  whispered  Miss  Perry.  Doubt- 
less there  was  guilt  on  her  conscience.  She  drew  her- 
self in  very  close  to  the  pillar. 

"  She  wouldn't  come  out  in  the  dusk,"  said  Jim. 
"  It  is  only  Ponto  taking  the  air  to  get.  an  appetite 
for  dinner." 

Jim  picked  up  a  pebble,  and,  taking  exact  and 
careful  aim,  dropped  it  on  the  supercilious  nose  of 
that  overfed  quadruped. 

"  Now,  Goose  Girl,"  said  Jim,  "  it  is  time  you  went 
up  to  dress,  or  you'll  get  none  of  those  trout." 

This  timely  reminder  caused  Miss  Perry  to  flee. 
It  was  twenty  minutes  past  eight ;  Aunt  Caroline 
brooked  no  delay,  and  Fanchette  hated  to  hurry. 

Jim  walked  back  sadly  to  his  nocturnal  chop. 
Why  was  he  so  poor?  Why  had  he  not  more  firm- 
ness of  character?  He  felt  that  the  part  he  was 
playing  was  an  unworthy  one.  He  had  no  right  to 
be  in  Wales  at  all.  He  was  merely  acting  the  part 
of  the  spoil-sport. 

However,  the  person  most  concerned  by  no  means 
intended  to  have  his  sport  spoiled  by  anybody.     In 


PARIS  ON  MOUNT  IDA  325 

any  case,  he  felt  quite  competent  to  conduct  his  suit 
to  a  successful  issue.  He  had  made  the  tedious  jour- 
ney to  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  expressly  for  the  purpose. 

It  is  true  that  the  unexpected  presence  of  George 
Betterton  was  a  little  disquieting.  Some  six  weeks 
had  elapsed  since  their  Sunday  morning  conversation 
at  Ward's.  The  opinion  he  had  then  formed  of  the 
temperature  of  George's  affections  had  had  a  marked 
influence  on  his  subsequent  conduct.  In  the  opinion 
of  this  cool  and  shrewd  calculator,  George  was  a 
decoy  put  up  by  Caroline  Crewkerne  to  lure  him  into 
the  mesh. 

All  the  same,  it  was  a  dangerous  view  to  take. 
And  if  George  had  had  the  skill  to  mask  his  inten- 
tions, George  would  win  the  prize.  Frankly,  he  did 
not  think  George  had  the  skill  requisite  to  such  tac- 
tics. He  was  one  of  those  plain  fellows  whom  a  child 
might  read.  Superficial  observers  of  the  Kendal  type 
were  always  apt  to  jump  far  too  quickly  to  conclu- 
sions. Quite  a  number  of  these  had  given  the  prize 
to  George  already.  But  Cheriton  counted  upon  a 
more  intimate  knowledge.  George  was  a  plain,  solid 
Conservative  who,  when  it  came  to  the  point,  would 
think  twice  before  making  a  duchess  of  a  parson's 
penniless  daughter. 

Nevertheless,  when  he  took  in  the  wonderful  Miss 
Perry,  who,  in  spite  of  all  that  Fanchette  could  do, 
had  kept  dinner  waiting  ten  minutes,  he  was  rather 
inclined  to  feel  that  he  had  incurred  an  unwarrant- 
able risk  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  indulging  his  nat- 
ural vein  of  cynicism.     George  was  rather  boastful 


326  ARAMINTA 

about  the  trout,  which  were  delicious.  And  at  the 
same  time  he  waxed  enthusiastic  over  Miss  Perry's 
conduct  of  the  punt,  her  manner  of  casting  a  fly; 
and  he  declared  she  could  hook  and  play  a  fish  with 
anybody. 

"  That  is  most  interesting,  my  dear  George,"  said 
Cheritpn.  "  But  all  this  merely  confirms  the  opinion 
I  have  long  since  formed  of  her  sex." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her  with  salmon,"  said  George. 
"  I  should  like  to  see  her  on  Nalloch  Water." 

"  Muffin  is  ever  so  much  better  than  I  am,"  said 
Miss  Perry. 

"  She  must  come  too,"  said  George. 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  is  all  right,"  murmured  his  watch- 
ful adversary,  with  a  httle  sigh.  "  I  think  the  old 
duflPer  is  to  be  trusted." 

Yet  was  he.^  Throughout  the  whole  dinner  the 
problem  loomed  before  him.  Doubtless  it  was  the 
conduct  of  Caroline  Crewkerne,  in  combination  with 
the  guilt  upon  his  conscience  that  precipitated  his 
uneasiness.  That  old  woman  had  assumed  a  demeanor 
of  concentrated  scornfulness  which  even  she  had  never 
surpassed.  And  to  make  things  worse,  she  was  con- 
tinually putting  forth  sinister  hints  and  indulging 
in  sardonic  little  touches  which  unmistakably  were 
aimed  at  his  self-security. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  Caroline  Crewkerne 
was  a  bad  one  to  cross.  And  further,  there  could  be 
no  doubt  that  she  bitterly  resented  what  she  called 
"  Cheriton's  tactics."  In  the  first  place,  he  had  com- 
mitted the  unpardonable  off'ense  of  seeing  through 


PARIS  ON  MOUNT  IDA  327 

and  making  light  of  her  devices.  It  required  a  very 
bold  person  indeed  to  do  that. 

After  dinner  Araminta  and  Elizabeth  played 
billiards,  while  their  elders  were  set  to  cards.  Caro- 
line Crewkerne  had  developed  a  talent  for  bridge, 
which,  considering  her  advanced  age,  was  surprising, 
Miss  Burden  also  was  learning  to  play  very  well,  al- 
though it  is  true  that  she  suffered  from  a  cardinal 
weakness.  Her  reluctance  to  declare  "  no  trumps  " 
was  due  to  something  in  her  character,  and,  in  the 
opinion  of  Cheriton,  who  was  her  partner  as  a  rule, 
it  was  a  great  handicap  in  life.  When  it  was 
George's  turn  to  be  "  dummy,"  he  invariably  fell 
asleep,  and  before  the  game  could  proceed  he  had  to 
be  roused  forcibly. 

Caroline  Crewkerne  was  one  of  those  vigilant  and 
seasoned  warriors  who  are  not  very  particular  what 
time  they  go  to  bed.  Therefore  Cheriton  counted 
upon  being  able  to  conduct  a  transaction  that  night 
which  at  the  first  opportunity  he  was  determined  to 
bring  to  a  point.  In  this  he  was  well  within  his 
reckoning,  for  Caroline  Crewkerne  and  he  easily  sat 
out  the  others.  It  was  about  a  quarter  to  eleven  when 
George  drank  his  final  whisky  and  mineral  water,  and 
in  a  condition  of  impending  somnolence  went  to  his 
repose. 

"  Now,  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  in  an  extremely 
businesslike  manner,  "  let  us  settle  this  thing  one 
way  or  the  other.  We  have  been  toying  with  it  long 
enough." 

"  What  thing  do  you   refer   to,   Cheriton.^ "   in- 


328  ARAMINTA 

t 

quired  that  accomplished  dissembler,  who  merely 
asked  the  question  as  a  matter  of  form. 

"  The  future  of  our  delectable  Miss  Goose.  Now, 
Caroline,  I  want  you  to  be  practical.  Be  practical, 
Caroline,  and  I  foresee  no  difficulty." 

Caroline  assumed  her  hanging-judge  demeanor. 
She  snuffed  the  air  as  a  statesmanlike  preliminary. 
Cheriton,  however,  a  seasoned  warrior,  was  not  to  be 
disconcerted  by  little  things  like  these. 

"  Now,  Caroline,"  said  he,  coolly,  "  no  one  appre- 
ciates more  fully  than  I  do  the  honorable  character 
of  your  motives.  Your  first  wish  and  your  last  is  to 
do  your  duty  by  your  delectable  niece." 

"  Don't  use  so  many  words,  Cheriton,"  said  Caro- 
line, sharply.  "  Remember  you  are  not  wasting  the 
time  of  the  country,  but  of  a  private  individual.  I 
don't  need  any  reminder  from  you  to  do  my  duty  by 
the  girl." 

"  Of  course  not,  Caroline,"  said  the  mellifluous 
Cheriton.  "  But  I  don't  want  you  to  get  your  idea 
of  duty  unduly  inflated.  I  want  you  to  be  reasonable. 
I  am  prepared  to  marry  the  gal — she  is  a  sweet,  good, 
and  healthy  creature,  and,  on  the  mother's  side,  she 
will  pass  muster — ^but  she  is  in  no  sense  a  partie;  and 
perhaps  I  shall  be  forgiven  if  I  feel  that  Cheriton 
House  has  a  right  to  expect  one." 

"  Let  it,"  said  Caroline,  grimly. 

"  Forgive  my  adopting  the  language  of  a  trades- 
man," said  Cheriton,  harmoniously ;  "  but  I  feel  that 
you  will  experience  less  difficulty  in  understanding  it. 
As  I  say,  I  like  the  girl,  and  I  am  prepared  to  make 


PARIS  ON  MOUNT  IDA  329 

what  in  the  circumstances  is  a  good  offer.  You  are 
at  liberty  to  reject  it,  of  course;  but  frankly  I  don't 
think  you  can  expect  a  better." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  about  it,  Cheriton,"  said  Caro- 
line, with  a  hawklike  glint  from  under  the  bushy 
eyebrows. 

"  Oh,  but  I  am,"  said  Cheriton,  confidently. 
"  George  is  a  bad  hat." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Carohne,  sitting  very 
upright. 

"  You  can  lead  a  horse  to  water,"  said  Cheriton, 
"  but  you  can't  make  him  drink." 

Caroline  sat  with  her  hands  clenched  in  her  lap, 
the  picture  of  suppressed  fury. 

"  Would  it  surprise  you  to  learn,"  said  she,  "  that 
George  Betterton  has  made  her  an  offer  of  mar- 
riage.? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Cheriton,  "  it  would  indeed.  Either 
he  was  in  his  cups  when  he  made  it,  or  he  has  since 
repented  of  his  indiscretion.  George  is  going  to 
marry  Priscilla  L'Estrange." 

"  What  is  your  authority  for  that  statement.?  " 
demanded  Caroline,  warily,  for  she  had  a  very  auda- 
cious gaze  fixed  upon  her. 

"  The  authority  of  my  intuitive  perception." 

"  Intuitive  fiddlestick !  " 

"  I  know  George  nearly  as  well  as  I  know  you," 
said  the  audacious  suitor.  "  Had  George  intended  to 
gobble  at  the  cherry,  he  would  have  done  so  six 
weeks  ago,  during  your  untimely  attack  of  laryngitis. 
But  George  is  an  old  hand ;  and  although  it  takes  a 


330  ARAMINTA 

seasoned  campaigner  to  marry  Priscilla  L'Estrange, 
it  is  better  that  he  should  do  so,  as  far  as  216,  Pic- 
cadilly, is  concerned,  than  that  he  should  marry  the 
penniless  daughter  of  a  country  parson." 

With  shame  and  trepidation  and  searching  of  heart 
be  it  written  that  this  couple  of  elderly  worldlings  sat 
into  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  discussing  the 
pros  and  cons  of  the  case  in  a  most  indelicate  manner, 
and  with  a  disposition  to  haggle  like  a  pair  of  Jews 
at  an  auction.  The  bickering  and  the  bartering  of 
these  two  elderly  persons  were  enough  to  overthrow 
the  most  resolute  idealist  among  us. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  greater  share 
of  the  blame  belonged  to  Caroline  Crewkerne.  Cheri- 
ton,  who  knew  her  as  well  as  he  knew  his  alphabet, 
was  really  far  more  liberal-minded  than  she  was.  He 
was  quite  as  shrewd  also.  For  all  the  pretension  of 
this  old  woman's  trappings,  and  her  lofty  airs,  and 
her  contempt  for  all  outside  the  magic  circle — and 
she  reserved  to  herself  the  exclusive  right  to  perform 
the  geometrical  feat  of  drawing  it — at  heart  she 
was  ruthlessly  bourgeoise.  Indeed,  she  was  apt  to 
plume  herself  upon  that  quality,  which,  however,  she 
preferred  to  call  by  another  name.  Therefore  who 
shall  blame  Cheriton  for  his  pious  determination  to 
give  her  a  Roland  for  an  Oliver.'' 

Caroline  Crewkerne  was  far  better  endowed  with 
the  goods  of  this  world  than  many  people  think  a 
private  citizen  has  a  right  to  be.  She  was  a  rich  old 
woman,  and,  like  so  many  rich  old  women,  she  was 
grasping.     Cheriton  was  rich  also,  but,  for  all  his 


PARIS  ON  MOUNT  IDA  331 

cynical  airs,  his  culture  was  liberal  enough  to  forbid 
his  making  a  god  of  his  money.  However,  he  was 
never  averse  from  a  battle  of  wits.  If  it  was  freely 
spiced  with  a  frank  contempt  for  the  polite  conven- 
tional glosses  which  he  delighted  to  mock,  so  much 
the  better. 

Cheriton's  chief  desire,  apart  from  the  state  of  his 
emotions,  was  to  read  his  old  friend  a  lesson.  He 
knew  that  she  had  tried  her  hardest  to  overreach  him. 
Not,  of  course,  on  her  own  behalf,  but  for  the  ama- 
teur's sheer  love  of  performing  that  action.  He  had 
had  the  wit  to  defend  himself  successfully,  and  now 
he  must  see  if  he  could  not  make  her  pay  for  her 
devices.  He  was  perfectly  willing  to  marry  Miss 
Perry,  and,  prior  to  so  doing,  he  was  prepared  to 
settle  a  certain  sum  upon  her.  But  at  the  same  time, 
he  made  it  a  point  that  something  fixed  and  definite 
must  be  forthcoming  from  the  other  side. 

It  was  that  rock  which  sundered  them  finally  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  When  this  condition  was 
first  laid  down,  Caroline  Crewkerne  laughed  to  scorn 
"  the  insolent  proposal,"  as  she  called  it.  In  the 
presence,  however,  of  Cheriton's  extreme  imperturba- 
bility, which  none  knew  better  how  to  assume  when  he 
chose,  she  grew  gradually  cooler,  until  at  two  o'clock 
she  brought  herself  to  say  that,  "  without  pledging 
herself  to  anything,  she  would  consider  it  more  fully, 
and,  if  necessary,  she  would  take  the  advice  of  those 
who  had  had  more  experience  in  these  matters." 

They  parted  amicably,  and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  with 
a  renewed  respect  for  one  another.    They  had  fought 


332  ARAMINTA 

many  shrewd  battles  of  one  kind  or  another — over 
cards,  over  pohtics,  over  a  flagrant  job,  over  a  third 
person's  reputation,  over  a  sale  of  shares ;  in  fact, 
over  everything  except  religion.  It  was  their  cheer- 
ful custom  to  expect  no  quarter  and  to  give  none. 
But  at  the  same  time,  they  bore  no  malice. 

As  Cheriton  bore  his  candle  up  the  ghostly  stone- 
flagged  staircase,  with  suits  of  armor  grinning  at 
him  and  mediaeval  weapons  menacing  him  from  the 
walls,  and  the  young  moon  peering  at  him  through 
the  oriel  windows,  he  knew  that  his  old  adversary 
would  make  a  last  final  and  consummate  eff*ort  to  en- 
tangle George  Betterton.  And  if  she  succeeded,  the 
United  Kingdom  would  not  contain  a  happier  old 
woman  than  she. 

Outside  the  first  door  in  the  corridor  was  a  pair 
of  shoes.  They  were  rather  large.  Outside  the  next 
door  was  another  pair,  far  less  fashionable  in  design, 
yet  in  size  precisely  similar.  Cheriton  stood  a  mo- 
ment to  gaze  reflectively  from  one  pair  to  the  other. 

"  I  shall  risk  it,"  he  mused.  "  George  won't  rise 
now.  But  it  is  rather  a  pity  both  of  'em  are  so 
dooced  handy  with  a  rod  and  tackle." 

"  Cheriton,"  said  a  grim  voice  behind  him,  "  do 
you  know  of  what  you  remind  me  ?  " 

"Paris  on  Mount  Ida?" 

"  No,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne.  "  You  remind  me 
of  a  fox  outside  a  poultry-yard,  looking  for  a  hole 
in  the  fence." 

Cheriton  shook  his  head  protestingly. 

"  A  curiously  banal  figure,"  said  he.     "  Why  are 


PARIS  ON  MOUNT  IDA 

you  always  so  bourgeoise,  Caroline?  You  have  no 
need  to  be." 

Caroline  shook  her  head  also. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  she,  with  great  resolution,  "  I 
don't  believe  a  word  you  have  told  me  about  Priscilla 
L'Estrange." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

JIM  LASCELLES  ADDS  HEROISM  TO  HIS  OTHER 
FINE    QUALITIES 

FOUR  hours  later  saw  the  inception  of  an  im- 
perial August  day.  The  previous  night  Muffin 
had  entered  Goose's  chamber  by  stealth,  with  bare 
feet  and  clad  in  a  white  nightgown  only,  and  armed 
with  a  fat  bolster.  After  a  solemn  exchange  of  civil- 
ities, of  which  Muffin  invariably  got  the  worst,  be- 
cause Goose's  aim  was  wonderfully  accurate  and  she 
was  not  susceptible  to  the  most  tremendous  buffets, 
they  ended  as  usual  by  sharing  the  same  bed  and  go- 
ing to  sleep  in  one  another's  arms.  It  was  never  their 
custom  to  heed  anything  else  until  the  light  of  the 
morning  touched  their  eyelids.  As  a  general  rule 
it  touched  Muffin's  first.  It  then  became  the  duty 
of  that  active  spirit,  as  soon  as  she  realized  that  she 
was  awake,  to  hale  the  still  sleeping  Goose  out  of 
bed.  Sometimes,  when  even  this  herculean  labor  had 
been  accomplished,  she  had  to  beat  that  somnolent 
person  about  the  head  with  a  pillow  before  she  could 
be  induced  to  put  on  her  stockings.  This  morning 
provided  no  exception  to  the  regular  mode  of  pro- 
cedure. 

The  mists  were  still  gathered  about  Lake  Dwygy, 
334 


JIM  LASCELLES'  HEROISM  335 

and  little  was  to  be  seen  of  Gwydr  and  his  brethren, 
when,  hand-in-hand.  Goose  and  Muffin  came  tramp- 
ling the  dew  of  the  early  August  day.  Bareheaded, 
laughing,  blithe  as  the  winged  inhabitants  of  the  air, 
they  were  supremely  happy.  Each  had  brought  up 
the  other  from  her  earliest  infancy,  and  although 
each  was  exquisitely  modest  in  all  that  pertained  to 
herself,  in  regard  to  the  fruit  of  her  handiwork  each 
had  formed  an  exaggerated  estimate.  Goose  was  in- 
ordinately proud  of  Muffin,  and  Muffin  was  inordi- 
nately proud  of  Goose. 

Tobias  was  borne  in  a  bag.  Although  he  was 
strictly  forbidden  to  catch  rabbits,  he  was  never 
denied  an  airing. 

"  There  goes  a  squirrel,"  said  Muffin.  "  Look,  in 
that  tree.  Up  he  goes ;  but  it  is  not  very  high.  I 
wonder  if  we  could  catch  him  for  Aunt  Caroline. 
Hold  my  bread  and  butter,  and  don't  eat  it." 

Muffin  had  already  established  herself  upon  the 
first  branch,  when  a  voice,  great  alike  in  authority 
and  scornfulness,  was  heard  through  the  early  morn- 
ing stillness. 

"  Come  out  of  that  tree,  you  Ragamuffin,"  it  said. 
"  Leave  that  squirrel  alone,  and  kindly  take  the 
trouble  to  read  the  notice  underneath  you.  *  The 
public  is  allowed  in  these  woods  on  sufferance  only  by 
permission  of  the  Right  Honorable  the  Countess  of 
Crewkerne.  Any  person  guilty  of  disorderly  conduct, 
or  who  does  willful  damage  to  the  trees,  shrubs,  and 
flowers,  or  who  attempts  to  take  fish  from  the  lake,  or 
who  wanders  in  search  of  game,  will  be  prosecuted 


336  ARAMINTA 

with  the  utmost  rigor  of  the  law.'  Come  down  at 
once,  you  Ragamuffin." 

The  voice  belonged  to  Jim  Lascelles,  of  course. 
Jim  was  looking  rather  haggard,  weary,  and  dishev- 
eled. The  truth  is  he  had  had  no  sleep  during  the 
night.  In  the  acute  phase  of  his  fortunes  he  could 
not  rest.  A  sensitive  conscience  assured  him  that  he 
was  on  forbidden  ground,  seeking  fruit  to  which  he 
had  no  lawful  claim.  He  would  have  been  far  better 
in  Normandy. 

This  morning  he  was. in  a  really  desperate  humor. 
Work  had  never  been  farther  from  his  thoughts,  and 
the  fact  that  two  persons  had  been  reputed  recently 
to  have  lost  their  lives  in  an  attempted  ascent  of  the 
Devil's  Footstool,  seemed  to  invest  that  precipitous 
chasm  with  a  certain  attraction. 

"  Look  here,  you  law-breakers,"  said  he,  "  let  us 
go  and  have  a  look  at  the  Devil's  Footstool." 

The  Misses  Perry  needed  no  second  invitation.  The 
dark  and  baleful  ascent  looming  up  from  the  lower 
end  of  the  lake  had  fascinated  them  already,  and 
they  had  even  made  one  or  two  tentative  attempts 
upon  it.  A  walk  of  twenty  minutes  brought  them  to 
the  foot  thereof ;  and  Tobias  being  left  in  his  bag  at 
the  bottom,  the  three  of  them  began  to  conduct  some 
highly  interesting  and  extremely  thrilling  investiga- 
tions. 

From  ledge  to  ledge  they  went,  rising  rapidly  to  a 
dizzy  and  precarious  height.  On  one  side  of  them 
was  a  torrent,  on  the  other  a  chasm.  But  they  went 
up  resolutely,  without  a  pause,  although  the  foot- 


JIM  LASCELLLS'  HEROISM  SSI 

hold  was  very  uncertain,  and  it  meant  death  and  de- 
struction to  look  down.  And  when,  in  the  course  of 
three  hours,  they  returned  breathless  and  disheveled 
to  whence  they  started,  having  made  a  complete  cir- 
cuit of  the  Devil's  Footstool,  and  the  three  of  them 
sat  down  exulting  in  their  weariness  by  the  side  of 
Tobias,  they  really  felt  that  they  had  achieved  some- 
thing. All  the  most  signal  performances  of  Widdi- 
ford  and  Slocum  Magna  had  been  effaced. 

According  to  Borrow,  Wales  is  not  only  a  pictur- 
esque, but  also  a  romantic  country.  Therefore,  it 
must  not  surprise  the  judicious  reader  that  by  half- 
past  nine  on  this  memorable  August  morning  Jim 
Lascelles  had  become  a  hero.  The  breakfast  table  at 
Pen-y-Gros  Castle  was  regaled  by  an  extremely  thrill- 
ing narrative  of  adventures  by  gorge  and  chasm. 

It  was  not  quite  clear — and  even  to  this  day  the 
mystery  has  not  been  elucidated — whether  Jim  Las- 
celles had  saved  the  life  of  Muffin,  or  whether  Muffin 
had  saved  the  life  of  Jim  Lascelles.  But  one  fact 
emerged  clear,  distinct,  and  radiant.  Jim  Lascelles 
was  a  hero  of  the  first  class.  His  conduct  within 
the  precincts  of  the  Devil's  Footstool  merited  a 
diploma. 

Cheriton  seconded  the  praises  of  his  protege. 

"  It  is  bred  in  the  fellow,"  said  he.  "  His  father, 
you  know,  was  Lascelles,  V.C." 

"  He  looks  that  kind  of  young  man,"  assented 
Miss  Burden.     "  His  eyes  are  so  open  and  fearless." 

As  soon  as  Aunt  Caroline  was  visible,  which  was 
not  until  noon,  she  was  put  in  possession  of  the  facts. 


338  ARAMINTA 

"  Who,  pray,  is  Jim  Lascelles?  "  was  her  first 
inquiry;  and  the  tone  of  it  was  not  wholly  sym- 
pathetic. 

"  He  used  to  live  at  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford," 
chimed  both  her  nieces  as  one. 

In  spite  of  his  heroism,  which  no  amount  of  cross- 
examination  could  mitigate,  a  few  leading  questions 
which  Elizabeth  was  called  upon  to  answer  had  the 
effect  of  rendering  Aunt  Caroline  decidedly  hostile  to 
Jim  Lascelles.  For  the  identity  of  the  presumptuous 
young  man  was  only  too  soon  established.  He  was 
tlie  person  who  had  had  the  impertinence  to  fling  him- 
self out  of  the  house  in  Hill  Street  when  he  had  been 
rebuked  in  a  becoming  manner  for  conduct  which  was 
really  unpardonable.  As  for  the  "  Jim,"  it  literally 
stuck  in  Aunt  Caroline's  throat. 

It  was  almost  the  only  reminder  that  their  august 
relation  had  had,  beyond  the  scanty  character  of 
their  wardrobes  and  their  plebeian  devotion  to  bread 
and  jam,  that  their  upbringing  had  been  that  of 
Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry. 

"  Elizabeth,"  said  Aunt  Caroline,  "  it  would  be 
more  seemly  to  my  mind  if  you  have  occasion  to  men- 
tion Mr.  Lascelles  to  speak  of  him  as  such." 

Muffin  opened  solemn  and  round  eyes  of  wonder 
upon  Aunt  Caroline. 

"  Oh,  but,"  said  she,  "  if  I  called  Jim  Mr.  Las- 
celles he  would  pull  my  hair." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Aunt  Caroline,  "  you  would 
do  well  to  terminate  the  acquaintance." 

"  But  he  saved  me  from  falling  down  the  preci- 


JIM  LASCELLLS'  HEROISM  339 

pice,"  said  Muffin,  "  and  I  am  going  to  write  to 
dearest  papa  about  it." 

"  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  "  a  truce  to  Whig  ex- 
clusiveness.  Behave  like  a  human  being,  and  ask  the 
young  fellow  to  dinner.  Ask  his  mother  also.  I  am 
told  she  is  a  singularly  agreeable  woman." 

Aunt  Caroline  sat  the  image  of  blue-blooded  de- 
fiance. George  Betterton,  however,  who  had  listened 
torpidly  to  the  account  of  the  episode,  was  prevailed 
upon  by  the  general  enthusiasm  for  Jim  Lascelles, 
and  the  favorable  impression  he  had  already  formed 
of  that  hero's  mother,  to  throw  the  weight  of  his  own 
influence  into  the  scale. 

"  Right  thing,  Caroline,"  said  George,  "  to  ask  the 
young  fellow  to  dinner  in  the  circumstances.  Behaved 
very  well,  they  tell  me." 

"  He  shall  not  cross  my  threshold,"  said  Caroline, 
"  until  he  apologizes  for  his  behavior  to  me  in  Hill 
Street." 

"  Of  course  he  will  apologize,"  said  Cheriton,  "  if 
you  hold  out  the  olive  branch.  He  can't  apologize 
unless  you  do." 

"  I  am  sure,  dear  Lady  Crewkerne,"  ventured  ^liss 
Burden,  "  Mr.  Lascelles  is  a  gentleman  and  his  mother 


Miss  Burden  was  unable  to  complete  her  remark. 
She  was  annihilated  by  a  terrific  glance.  The  elder 
Miss  Perry  also,  as  was  to  be  expected,  behaved  very 
tactlessly. 

"  Jim  is  just  a  sweet,"  she  drawled  ridiculously, 
"  and  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles  is  just  a  sweet  too." 


340  ARAMINTA 

The  glance  which  had  slain  Miss  Burden  was  ex- 
tended to  the  elder  Miss  Perrj.  Its  effect  in  that 
quarter  was  by  no  means  so  terrible.  That  Feather- 
brain sustained  it  with  the  most  admirable  composure. 

"  Jim  is  just  a  sweet,"  said  she,  "  and  Muffin  saved 
him  from  falling  over  the  precipice." 

"  I  was  given  to  understand,"  said  Aunt  Caroline, 
"  that  it  was  the  man  Lascelles  who  saved  Eliza- 
beth." 

"  Yes,  it  was,  Aunt  Caroline,"  said  Muffin ;  "  but 
Goose  is  rather  a  silly." 

Of  course  there  could  only  be  one  conclusion  to  the 
whole  matter.  The  massed  force  of  public  opinion 
was  too  much  for  the  Whig  remnant,  even  in  its  own 
stronghold.  Ungraciously,  it  must  be  confessed,  Miss 
Burden  was  commanded  to  write  as  follows :  "  The 
Countess  of  Crewkerne  requests  the  pleasure  of  the 
company  of  Mrs.  Lascelles  and  Mr.  James  Lascelles 
at  dinner  this  evening  at  8:30." 

"  This  is  one  of  your  white  days,  Caroline,"  said 
her  oldest  friend,  with  approbation.  "  A  singularly 
gracious  act  in  a  life  which,  if  I  may  say  so,  has  not 
been  too  full  of  them.  We  must  mark  it  with  a  little 
white  stone." 

"  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton,"  said  the  old  lady. 
"  Who  has  dared  to  remove  the  ribbon  from  Ponto's 
neck?" 

"  He  lost  it  in  the  water.  Aunt  Caroline,"  said 
Muffin,  with  all  the  assurance  of  one  in  favor  at 
Court,  "  when  he  fell  in." 

"  When  he  fell  in !  "  said  Aunt  Caroline. 


JIM  LASCELLES'  HEROISM  341 

"  He  went  to  sleep  on  the  edge  of  the  punt,"  Muffin 
explained,  "  and  he  toppled  over." 

"  I  trust,"  said  the  least  of  Ponto's  admirers, 
"  that  the  obese  beast  will  not  gain  length  of  days 
from  his  immersion." 

John,  wearing  his  second-best  livery,  which  he 
always  affected  in  Wales,  delivered  the  mandate  at 
Jim  Lascelles'  lodgings  in  Pen-y-Gros  hamlet,  but 
that  hero  and  his  mother  had  gone  down  to  the  lake. 
They  were  joined  there  presently  by  a  cheerful 
party  of  four  persons.  Jim  Lascelles  was  very 
heartily  congratulated  upon  the  heroism  he  had 
displayed. 

"  It  has  given  great  pleasure  at  the  Castle,"  said 
Cheriton,  "  where  heroism  is  always,  and  I  think 
justly,  admired.  My  friend  Brancaster  will  exert 
himself  to  get  you  a  medal.  Doubtless  your  Sover- 
eign will  present  it  to  you." 

George  Betterton,  in  the  manner  of  a  true-blue 
Englishman,  went  the  length  of  shaking  the  hero  very 
heartily  by  the  hand. 

"  Great  pleasure  to  me,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  that 
worthy,  "  to  hear  of  your  gallant  action.  Congratu- 
late you  heartily.  Would  have  given  great  pleasure 
to  your  gallant  father." 

Jim  Lascelles  laid  down  his  palette  with  an  air  of 
tremendous  truculence. 

"  To  whom  am  I  indebted  for  this  ?  "  said  he. 
"  Which  of  them  is  it.?     I  suspect  that  Goose." 

"  They  are  both  of  them  Geese,"  said  Jim's 
mother. 


342  ARAMINTA 

"  Aunt  Caroline  thinks  it  is  so  splendid  of  you," 
said  Muffin,  who  was  seated  on  the  pebbles  for  the 
purpose  of  removing  her  shoes  r.nd  stockings.  "  She 
has  invited  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Lascelles  to  dinner." 

"  You  incomparably  foolish  person,"  said  Jim. 
"  I've  a  great  mind  now  not  to  paint  your  picture." 

"  A  pair  of  irresponsible  babblers,"  said  Jim's 
mother,  whose  eyes  were  really  very  much  brighter 
than  they  had  any  need  to  be.  "  One  is  as  bad  as  the 
other.  But  an  old  woman  feels  very  proud  of  her  son 
all  the  same." 

Jim  Lascelles  stuck  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
ruefully. 

"  This  is  the  deuce,"  said  he.  "  Upon  my  word,  I 
deny  the  whole  thing  in  the  most  absolute  and  un- 
conditional manner." 

"  I  have  heard  you  deny  your  genius  before  now," 
said  Mrs.  Lascelles ;  "  but,  my  dear  boy,  you  have 
never  been  able  to  convince  Lord  Cheriton  that  you 
are  not  a  genius.  And  I  feel  sure  that  all  you  say 
to  the  contrary  will  fail  to  convince  him  that  you  are 
not  a  hero." 

"  Absurd !  "  said  Jim,  hotly.  "  I  am  as  much  of 
one  as  I  am  of  the  other." 

"  A  dooced  awkward  place  you  are  in,  my  dear 
fellow,"  said  Cheriton.  "  Everybody  who  has  heard 
Miss  Muffin's  thrilling  account  of  her  deliverance 
from  an  imminent  and  deadly  peril  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  Devil's  Coal  Box " 

"  Footstool,"  said  the  elder  Miss  Perry. 

"  Footstool,  I  stand  corrected,"  said  Cheriton,  add- 


JIM  LASCELLZS'  HEROISM  343 

ing  new  embellishments  to  his  oratory.  "  Everybody 
who  has  heard  Miss  Muffin's  hair-raising  narrative 
of  her  deliverance  from  an  imminent  and  deadly  peril 
within  the  precincts  of  the  Devil's  Footstool  has  con- 
ceived a  deep  admiration  for  its  author.  From  my 
old  and  misguided  friend  Lady  Crewkerne  to  Ponto 
himself,  all  at  the  Castle  are  of  one  mind.  I  may  say 
the  admiration  of  our  friend  Miss  Burden  is  already 
tinged  with  passion." 

"  Put  on  those  shoes  and  stockings,  you  Raga- 
muffin," said  Jim.     "  I  shall  not  paint  you." 

"  But,  Jim,"  said  that  artless  person,  with  eyes 
of  extraordinary  roundness  and  candor,  "  you  prom- 
ised to." 

"  Lascelles,"  said  Cheriton,  "  I  am  afraid,  my  dear 
fellow,  you  must  accept  the  inevitable  with  all  the 
grace  at  your  command.  No  reasonable  person  can 
possibly  doubt  your  heroism,  and  I  fear  it  is  only 
critics  of  the  older  school  who  can  doubt  your  genius. 
It  is  hard  to  conceive  a  situation  more  trying  to  a 
modest  young  Englishman,  educated  at  Harrow.  My 
dear  Mrs.  Lascelles,  I  feel  constrained  to  compliment 
you  publicly  upon  having  a  son  who  is  the  dooce  of 
a  fine  fellow." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said 
Jim's  mother.     "  I  think  so  myself." 

Thereupon  the  green  linen  frock  and  the  red  um- 
brella and  the  French  novel,  together  with  an  ex- 
tremely choice  suit  of  tweeds  and  a  superb  Panama 
hat,  went  along  by  the  lake  to  take  a  closer  view  of 
that  formidable  chasm,  the  Devil's  Footstool.    At  the 


SU  ARAMINTA 

same  time  George  Betterton  handed  Miss  Goose 
aboard  the  punt. 

Jim  Lascelles  took  up  the  tools  of  his  trade. 

"  Get  into  the  water,  you  Ragamuffin,"  said  he. 
"  I'll  paint  you  with  pink  eyes  and  green  hair.  And 
your  frock  shall  not  have  a  single  rent  in  it.  It 
shall  be  the  last  cry  of  the  fashion." 

Things  went  excellently  well  for  a  time.  It  was 
a  glorious  August  day.  There  was  hardly  a  cloud 
about  Gwydr ;  the  sky  was  of  a  pure  Italian  hue ; 
there  was  scarcely  a  pufF  of  wind  to  ruffle  Lake 
Dwygy.  For  a  bright  and  diligent  hour  Jim 
Lascelles  was  on  the  best  of  terms  with  his 
canvas. 

"^  Keep  that  side,  you  Ragamuffin,"  said  he,  "  and 
give  the  light  of  the  morning  a  chance.  Keep  that 
cucumber  basket  out  of  the  eye  of  the  sun.  And  don't 
leave  the  water  on  any  pretext  whatever.  I  am  not  in 
the  least  interested  in  toads,  newts,  lizards,  speckled 
trout,  ferns,  grass,  or  in  your  general  conversation. 
Soak  and  tear  and  soil  your  garments  to  your  heart's 
content,  but  you  take  those  Foot  Pieces  out  of  the 
water  on  pain  of  appearing  at  Burlington  House  as 
an  American  heiress." 

"  But,  Jim '' 

"  Silence,  you  Ragamuffin." 

"  But,  Jim,  there  is  dearest  Aunt  Caroline." 

It  was  perfectly  true.  The  mistress  of  Pen-y-Gros 
Castle  was  standing  five  yards  from  the  canvas.  She 
was  in  the  full  panoply  of  war.  Ponto,  her  aide-de- 
camp, and  Miss  Burden,  her  gentlewoman,  were  by 


JIM  LASCELLi:S'  HEROISM  345 

her  side.  Her  ebony  stick  supported  her  venerable 
frame ;  her  headdress  was  surmounted  by  a  hat  that 
had  been  fashionable  in  1880.  An  eyeglass  was  in 
her  grim  old  eye;  and  her  gentlewoman  held  an  um- 
brella over  her  to  protect  her  aged  form  from  the 
fierce  rays  which,  according  to  Borrow,  are  some- 
times reflected  from  the  slopes  of  the  Welsh  moun- 
tains. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  curtail  a  discourse  on  art,"  said  the 
mistress  of  Pen-y-Gros  Castle,  speaking  in  a  tone  that 
was  beautifully  distinct,  "  but  you  do  not  seem  to  be 
aware  that  the  public  is  allowed  in  these  grounds  on 
sufferance  only." 

Jim  took  off  his  hat  and  bowed  in  a  very  becoming 
if  slightly  ironical  manner. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  am  aware  of  that  perfectly.  I  have  seen  the 
notice  which  warns  the  public  at  least  six  times  this 
morning." 

"  I  hope  you  will  heed  it,"  said  Lady  Crewkerne. 

"  It  does  not  forbid  the  public  to  paint  the  scenery^ 
I  believe,"  said  Jim  coolly. 

Jim  had  really  no  right  to  be  so  cool  in  the  presence 
of  the  mistress  of  Pen-y-Gros  Castle.  All  the  same, 
it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  she  did  not  respect  him 
for  it. 

"  It  depends,"  said  she,  "  upon  what  portion  of  the 
scenery  the  public  wishes  to  paint.  For  instance,  you 
appear  to  be  painting  some  person  who  stands  in  the 
water.  And  the  public  is  expressly  forbidden  to  enter 
the  water." 


S46  ARAMINTA 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Jim  Lascelles.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  I'm  sure." 

Jim  Lascelles,  for  all  his  coolness,  did  not  quite 
know  what  to  say  next  to  keep  within  the  rules  of  the 
game.  However,  that  section  of  the  public  that  was 
standing  in  the  water  saw  fit  rather  providentially  to 
disobey  the  instructions  of  the  artist.  She  left  the 
water  and  came  resolutely  to  the  aid  of  Jim  Lascelles. 
Barefooted  and  with  her  skirt  kilted  in  the  true 
Slocum  Magna  and  Widdiford  manner,  she  accosted 
the  mistress  of  Pen-y-Gros  Castle. 

"  Dearest  Aunt  Caroline,"  said  she,  "  this  is  Mr. 
Jim  Lascelles,  who  saved  me  from  falling  over  the 
precipice  this  morning." 

"  We  have  met  before,  I  think,"  said  Aunt  Caro- 
line, grimly. 

"Wasn't  it  brave  of  him?"  said  Muffin. 

"  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  Aunt  Caroline,  "  you  appear 
to  have  acted  in  a  prompt  and  courageous  manner, 
and  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  manly  conduct." 

"  Thank  you.  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  Jim,  with 
excellent  gravity,  "  but  I  am  happy  to  say  Miss  Perry 
has  greatly  exaggerated  the  occurrence." 

"  Oh,  no,  Jim,"  said  Miss  Perry.    "  Ask  Goose." 

"  There  is  one  thing,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  the 
mistress  of  Pen-y-Gros  Castle,  "  that  I  hope  you  will 
take  to  heart.  In  future  the  public  will  be  strictly 
forbidden  to  climb  the  Devil's  Footstool." 

"  I  think  that  precaution  will  be  in  its  interests," 
said  Jim.  "  It  is  all  right  going  up,  but  it  is  a 
wicked  place  coming  down." 


JIM  LASCELLE3'  HEROISM  347 

"  Well,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  Lady  Crewkerne,  "  it 
is  satisfactory  to  learn  that  this  injudicious  adven- 
ture has  terminated  without  loss  of  life.  I  shall  be 
glad  if  you  will  dine  at  the  Castle  this  evening." 

Jim  Lascelles  was  sufficiently  mollified  by  the  tone 
to  accept  the  invitation. 

"  And  for  my  part,"  said  Jim,  after  he  had  done 
so,  "  I  shall  be  glad.  Lady  Crewkerne,  if  you  will  ac- 
cept an  apology  for  my  behavior  the  last  time  we 
met.     I  am  afraid  I  was  very  much  in  the  wrong." 

"  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  Lady  Crewkerne,  speaking 
very  distinctly,  "  I  have  since  thought  that  matter 
over  carefully,  and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
there  is  no  need  for  me  to  revise  the  judgment  I 
formed  at  the  time.  You  were  very  much  in  the 
wrong.  All  the  same,  I  have  pleasure  in  accepting 
vour  apology.  Burden,  we  will  return.  I  feel  the 
heat." 

Things  having  been  placed  on  this  amicable  basis, 
the  mistress  of  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  withdrew  with  her 
retinue,  and  Muffin  returned  to  the  water. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

REVEL    IS    HELD    AT    PEN-Y-GROS    CASTLE 

MODEST  revel  was  held  that  evening  at  the 
Castle.  Jim's  mother  erred  so  much  on  the 
side  of  youth  that  Jim  was  disposed  to  blame  her  for 
wearing  her  best  gown.  She  knew  as  well  as  any- 
body that  she  always  did  look  young  in  her  best  gown, 
almost  to  the  point  of  impropriety.  It  had  been  ob- 
tained in  Paris  for  one  thing,  not  very  recently,  it  is 
true,  for  Jim  was  then  a  gay  and  careless  student  at 
L'Ecole  des  Beaux  Arts ;  but,  even  at  that  time  of 
day,  the  dressmakers  of  Paris  were  said  to  possess  a 
lightness  of  touch,  a  grace,  and  a  felicity  which  made 
for  youth.  In  her  heart,  there  is  reason  to  believe, 
Jim's  mother  considered  her  son  to  be  unduly  sensitive 
upon  the  score  of  her  appearance. 

Caroline  Crewkerne  was  moderately  civil  to  Jim's 
mother.  But  of  course  she  wore  a  certain  number 
of  airs,  as  she  did  invariably  when  she  had  to  do  with 
persons  of  her  own  sex  whom  she  did  not  consider  to 
be  her  equals  socially.  But  perhaps  there  is  no  need 
to  blame  her.  The  chameleon  can  change  its  spots, 
but  it  is  not  really  more  respected  than  the  leopard. 
Caroline  Crewkerne  was  three  and  seventy,  and  habit 
was  strong  in  her.  She  belonged  to  a  period  when 
airs  were  more  in  vogue,  when  the  world  was  not  so 

348 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-x-GROS  CASTLE     349 

democratic  as  it  is  in  these  days,  when  human  destinies 
were  more  unequal. 

If  Jim's  mother  was  a  little  amused  by  the  "  grand 
manner  " — and  doubtless  she  was,  because  she  had 
seen  something  of  Cosmopolis,  and  was  therefore  not 
exactly  a  provincial — she  was  too  good-natured  and 
too  well  bred  to  show  it.  But  it  is  to  be  feared  that 
Jim  resented  it.  He  blamed  himself  for  being  fool 
enough  to  come.  Jim  had  at  least  one  of  the  essen- 
tials necessary  to  success  in  life.  He  was  an  excellent 
hater.  He  hated  well,  and  he  hated  heartily,  and  he 
forgave  with  difficulty.  And  certainly  he  hated  this 
old  woman  and  all  her  works. 

A  common  and  watchful  friend  in  fine  lawn  and 
pomatum  stood  a  little  apart  to  witness  Caroline 
Crewkerne  offer  two  fingers  and  to  witness  Jim  Las- 
celles  accept  them.  Jim  got  through  the  ordeal  with- 
out any  real  loss  of  credit,  although  his  mother  knew 
that  he  was  angry.  However,  there  were  compensa- 
tions. George  Betterton  greeted  the  young  fellow  in 
quite  a  hearty  manner ;  Miss  Burden  beamed  upon 
him,  and  her  appearance  was  singularly  agreeable 
with  "  a  romantic  tale  on  her  eyelashes  " ;  while  the 
Miss  Perrys,  of  course,  were  triumphs  of  female  love- 
liness. The  elder  of  the  twain,  in  her  "  play-acting 
frock,"  as  Aunt  Caroline  called  it,  and  with  her  daf- 
fodil-colored mane  done  low  down  in  her  neck  in  a 
most  remarkable  simulation  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, by  the  hand  of  the  incomparable  but  exacting 
Fanchette,  was  enough  to  haunt  any  young  painter 
for  many  days  to  come.     Muffin,  too,  with  her  bril- 


350  ARAMINTA 

liant  health  and  her  open  manners,  with  a  coloring 
only  less  wonderful  than  that  of  her  sister,  and  with 
a  physique  pure  of  line  and  of  a  spreading  stalwart 
symmetry,  looked  every  inch  of  her  a  veritable 
younger  sister  of  the  goddess.  Fanchette  had  been 
coaxed,  perhaps  by  an  inborn  love  of  her  art,  to  em- 
bellish Muffin's  yellow  mane  also  with  the  hand  of 
her  great  talent,  so  that  it  also  sat  low  down  in  her 
neck  in  a  fashion  fit  to  inspire  a  sonnet.  Muffin's 
frock  was  of  pure  white — at  least,  it  was  of  that  hue 
when  it  was  first  purchased.  And  although  it  was 
cheap  and  countrified  and  by  no  means  new,  and  it 
was  rent  in  three  places,  and  was  very  short  in  the 
sleeves  and  very  tight  all  over,  it  really  suited  her  to 
perfection,  as  somehow  everything  did  that  she  wore. 

Lord  Cheriton  was  delighted. 

"  Mrs.  Lascelles,"  said  he,  at  the  first  opportunity, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  our  Miss  Gunnings  .f*  " 

Jim's  mother  sighed  a  little. 

"  Perfectly  distracting,"  said  she.  "  And  yet  it 
only  seems  yesterday  that  they  were  long-legged  crea- 
tures in  short  white  socks." 

By  the  dispensation  of  the  powers  George  Better- 
ton  took  in  his  hostess,  Cheriton  took  in  the  wife  of  the 
Vicar,  the  Vicar  took  in  Mrs.  Lascelles,  Jim  took  in 
Miss  Burden,  and  the  Miss  Perrys  took  in  one  an- 
other. 

Jim  Lascelles  never  remembered  a  meal  that  he 
enjoyed  less,  except  in  after-years  when — ^but  we  must 
not  overrun  our  story.  For  the  greater  part  of  the 
conversation   was    confined   to    one   theme,    and   the 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-f-GROS  CASTLE     351 

theme  was  heroism.  Cheriton  claim.ed  the  respectful 
indulgence  of  the  table  while  Muffin  furnished  her 
thrilling  narrative  with  all  the  latest  embellishments. 
It  is  true  that  she  suffered  occasional  contradiction 
in  the  course  of  it  from  her  muddle-headed  but  tena- 
cious sister  Goose,  but  her  testimony  remained  sub- 
stantially unshaken.  Mr.  James  Lascelles  was  a  hero, 
no  doubt  about  that. 

When  the  dessert  stage  was  reached,  Cheriton 
pledged  Jim's  health  in  felicitous  terms  and  in  some 
excellent  madeira.  Jim  responded  with  a  vehement 
denial  of  the  charges  brought  against  him. 

"  Why,"  said  Cheriton,  "  the  young  fellow  will 
deny  his  genius  next." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jim's  mother,  "  he  would,  only  he 
knows  it  is  no  use." 

After  dinner  there  was  music.  Caroline  Crewkerne 
had  an  ingrained  dislike  of  music  which  amounted  to 
destestation,  but  on  this  occasion  it  was  permitted  as 
a  concession  to  the  Church.  The  Vicar's  wife  had  a 
light  soprano  voice,  and  sang  very  pleasantly,  al- 
though rather  nervous  at  first.  The  Vicar's  render- 
ing of  the  "  Bay  of  Biscay  "  was  justly  admired. 
Jim's  mother  interpreted  Chopin  with  such  refinement 
and  delicacy  that  Caroline  Crewkerne  was  able  to  get 
a  short  nap.  But  quite  one  of  the  most  admired 
achievements  of  the  evening  was  George  Betterton's 
rendering^of  what  he  called  his  "  one  horse,"  a  tech- 
nical term  which  baffled  everybody  as  to  its  meaning, 
including  Cheriton  himself,  that  veritable  encyclo- 
pedia of  human  information. 


352  ARAMINTA 

George  Betterton's  "  one  horse  "  was  "  We'll  all  go 
a-hunting  to-day,"  with  chorus.  This  he  rendered 
with  the  most  resolute  disregard  of  time  and  tune, 
and  in  the  most  dogged  and  sonorous  manner.  The 
Vicar's  wife  accompanied  him  and  finished  three  bars 
in  front  of  George,  and  so  "  won  as  she  pleased,"  in 
the  judgment  of  Cheriton,  who,  in  addition  to  his 
other  accomplishments,  was  a  critic  of  the  art  of 
music.  However,  Muffin  and  Jim  Lascelles  were 
heard  to  such  advantage  in  the  chorus  that  there  was 
no  doubt  about  its  success.  They  were  importuned 
upon  this  revelation  of  their  talent  to  sing  a  solo 
apiece.  They  contrived  to  evade  this  penalty  on  the 
plea  that  they  had  never  sung  in  public  before,  al- 
though Goose  declared  that  Muffin  had  sung  by  her- 
self twice  in  Slocum  Magna  parish  church  with  great 
distinction. 

"  But  that  wasn't  in  public,"  said  Muffin, 
staunchly.  "  Besides,  it  was  after  dearest  papa  had 
preached  his  sermon." 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  Miss  Muffin,"  said  Cheriton, 
"  that  the  point  is  too  subtle  for  the  lay  intelligence." 

Although  Muffin  and  Jim  Lascelles  were  absolved 
from  singing  solos,  they  were  unable  wholly  to  evade 
the  penalty  incurred  by  the  revelation  of*  their  gifts. 
They  were  haled  to  the  piano  to  sing  a  duet  from 
H.M.S.  Pinafore;  and  made  such  a  hopeless  mess 
of  the  performance  that  Jim's  mother,  to  whom  the 
accompaniment  was  intrusted,  took  the  extreme  course 
of  closing  the  piano  in  the  middle  of  it  and  retiring 
in  dudgeon. 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-i^-GROS  CASTLE  S53 

A  displaj^  of  thought-reading  concluded  the  pro- 
ceedings. The  Vicar's  wife  was  a  clairvoyante,  noted 
for  miles  around.  Cheriton  also  confessed  to  powers 
in  this  occult  science.  The  Vicar's  wife  was  only  per- 
mitted to  perform  one  feat,  because  the  Vicar  de- 
clared that  if  she  attempted  more  than  one  in  an 
evening  it  excited  her  so  much  that  she  never  slept 
all  night.  The  task  allotted  to  her  was  that  she 
should  take  the  ribbon  from  Ponto's  neck  and  tie  it 
around  Goose's  finger.  The  feat  was  performed  with 
such  exemplary  ease  that  Muffin  felt  sure  that  she 
could  do  something.  Her  task  was  the  elementary 
one  of  giving  Miss  Burden  a  kiss.  Instead  of  doing 
this,  however,  she  hugged  Aunt  Caroline.  In  the 
opinion,  however,  of  those  best  acquainted  with  these 
mysteries,  she  was  held  to  be  so  nearly  right  that  her 
reputation  was  established  forthwith. 

"Isn't  it  wonderful.^"  said  Goose,  with  dilated 
eyes.  "  I  shall  write  to  dearest  papa  about  it.  At 
the  next  entertainment  in  Slocum  Magna  parish-room 
Muffin  will  have  to  do  something." 

"  I  think,"  said  Jim's  mother,  "  her  powers  as  a 
clairvoyante  are  superior  to  her  powers  as  a  canta- 
trice." 

Muffin  was  showing  a  desire  to  give  a  further 
display  of  her  newly  discovered  talent,  when  Aunt 
Caroline  said  it  was  half-past  ten,  and  that  Araminta 
and  Elizabeth  must  retire. 

After  saluting  Aunt  Caroline  in  a  very  dutiful 
manner  they  obeyed  this  edict  with  most  admirable 
docility.     It  proved  a  signal  for  the  general  dispersal 


854  ARAMINTA 

of  the  company.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
Aunt  Carohne  intended  that  it  should. 

No  sooner  were  the  Vicar  and  his  wife  and  Jim 
Lascelles  and  his  mother  abroad  in  the  rapt  summer 
stillness,  and  they  were  picking  their  way  through 
the  tomblike  darkness  of  the  wood  towards  Pen-y- 
Gros  hamlet,  than  the  inmates  of  the  castle  sat  down 
to  the  green  table.  Caroline  Crewkerne  yawned 
vigorously.  But  her  opponents  did  well  not  to  mis- 
interpret that  action,  because  this  old  woman  was 
never  known  to  sit  down  to  cards  without  proving 
herself  to  be  more  than  usually  wide  awake. 

"  Caroline,"  said  her  oldest  friend,  "  this  is  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  whitest  days  in  all  my  recollection 
of  you.  I  can't  say  positively  that  you  were  genial, 
but  I  feel  that  I  am  entitled  to  affirm  that  you  got 
through  the  evening  without  insulting  anybody." 

"  The  middle  classes  are  so  tiresome,"  said  Caro- 
line, cutting  for  the  deal  and  winning  it  easily. 

"  The  middle  classes  are  almost  extinct  as  a 
genus,"  said  Cheriton.  "  They  have  assimilated  cul- 
ture so  rapidly  since  that  fellow  Arnold  wrote  to  them 
upon  the  subject  that  nowadays  they-  are  almost  as 
extinct  as  the  dodo." 

"  Pshaw !  "  said  Caroline,  carefully  sorting  a  hand 
that  contained  four  aces  and  three  kings.  "  It  is  only 
skin  deep.  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton.  I  declare 
no  trumps." 

"  I  shall  not  double,"  said  Cheriton,  who  found 
himself  in  possession  of  a  "  Yarborough." 

In  a  very  short  space  of  time,  Cheriton  and  Miss 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-Y-GROS  CASTLE      S55 

Burden  had  suffered  the  indignity  of  the  "  grand 
slam." 

"  Well  played,  partner,"  said  George,  as  soon  as 
he  woke  up. 

There  can  be  really  no  question  at  all  that  few 
persons  could  have  played  their  cards  better  than 
Caroline  Crewkerne,  when  that  old  woman  found  her- 
self with  a  good  hand.  And  few  persons  found  them- 
selves oftener  in  that  enviable  position  than  did  she. 
Certainly  this  evening  she  surpassed  herself.  It  is 
true  that  the  cards  came  her  way  in  the  most  sur- 
prising fashion.  But  she  utilized  them  to  the  full; 
and  further,  she  took  advantage  of  the  mistakes  of 
her  principal  adversary. 

It  was  not  often  that  Cheriton  was  guilty  of  fla- 
grant errors,  but  on  this  occasion  he  certainly  held 
bad  cards,  and  to  these  he  added  unmistakably  infe- 
rior play.  He  forgot  important  cards  constantly; 
and  twice  at  a  critical  moment  he  revoked.  Caroline 
was  in  the  highest  glee.  Everything  went  right  for 
her ;  and  the  sum  she  won  from  Cheriton  it  would  not 
be  wise  or  right  to  divulge,  lest  it  shock  the  less  afflu- 
ent among  our  readers.  It  was  not  really  enough 
"  to  endow  a  hospital  for  the  incurably  insane,"  as 
Cheriton  declared  it  was,  but  it  certainly  enabled  the 
lucky  Caroline  to  contemplate  the  purchase  of  a  few 
of  those  Westralians  which  she  had  coveted  for  some 
time  past. 

Happily  neither  Miss  Burden  nor  George  Betterton 
could  afford  to  play  for  money;  the  former  because 
her  salary  of  forty  pounds  per  annum  was  her  only 


356  ARAMINTA 

means  of  subsistence;  the  latter  because  his  high 
rank  rendered  it  necessary  that  in  all  respects  his 
life  should  be  a  pattern  to  his  admiring  countrymen. 
We  have  no  desire  to  lower  a  very  worthy  man  in  the 
public  estimation,  but  this  desire  for  respectability 
did  not  prevent  his  losing  continually  at  piquet  to 
Caroline  Crewkerne.  But  then  piquet  is  not  like 
bridge.  The  one  is  old  and  of  good  report ;  the  other 
is  new  and  plutocratic. 

A  little  after  midnight  George  Betterton  retired  in 
earnest  to  his  virtuous  repose,  while  Miss  Burden 
followed  his  example.  And  no  sooner  had  the  hostess 
and  her  old  friend  the  field  to  themselves  than  they 
reverted  to  the  topic  of  the  previous  night.  The 
matter  had  been  left  in  an  interesting  stage.  Cher- 
iton  felt  it  to  be  a  hopeful  one.  He  was  sure  that  he 
had  no  serious  rival  to  contend  against,  for  George 
with  all  his  flourishes  was  sure  to  end  by  marrying 
Priscilla.  The  Georges  of  this  world  invariably 
marry  the  Priscillas. 

"  I  am  willing  to  tie  three  thousand  a  year  upon 
the  creature,"  said  Cheriton.  His  tone  was  not  ex- 
actly that  of  an  auctioneer,  although  his  standard  of 
wisdom  rendered  it  necessary  that  he  should  always 
suit  his  discourse  to  his  company.  "  Upon  the  con- 
dition, my  dear  Caroline,  that  you  tie  an  equal  sum 
upon  her.  And  there  is  also  a  living  in  my  gift  worth 
eleven  hundred  a  year  which  is  likely  to  be  vacant." 

So  much  for  the  terms.  Caroline  Crewkerne 
pondered  them  well.  She  was  a  shrewd,  covetous, 
hard-headed,  hard-hearted  old  woman.      But  if  she 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-Y-GROS  CASTLE     357 

took  a  thing  in  hand  she  carried  it  through.  And 
she  had  determined  to  do  something  for  her  dead  and 
disgraced  sister's  portionless  daughter.  Up  to  a 
point  she  was  able  to  plume  herself  upon  the  success 
of  the  negotiations.  What  she  did  not  like  was  the 
sacrifice  of  some  of  her  own  money.  It  would  not 
make  the  least  difference  to  her.  She  had  more  al- 
ready than  she  knew  what  to  do  with,  but  to  part  with 
her  substance  always  hurt  her. 

"  We  will  say  fifteen  hundred,  Cheriton,  and  call  it 
settled,"  said  Caroline  with  the  air  of  a  money-lender. 

Her  old  friend  frankly  enjoyed  the  situation.  He 
knew  where  the  shoe  pinched  as  well  as  she  did.  Her 
craft  and  her  avarice  reminded  him  of  Balzac's 
novels. 

"  If  you  say  fifteen  hundred,  my  dear  Caroline," 
said  her  old  friend,  "  I  must  say  fifteen  hundred 
too." 

Caroline  pondered  again.  Cheriton  was  not  a 
good  life,  and  nearly  everything  was  entailed. 

"Three  thousand  a  year  in  perpetuity.? "  said 
Caroline,  harshly. 

"  Ye-es,"  said  Cheriton.  "  Dooced  liberal,  I  think, 
for  a  poor  parson's  daughter." 

Caroline  bristled.  She  looked  not  only  prickly  but 
venomous. 

"  Don't  forget,  Cheriton,"  she  said  truculently, 
"  that  the  creature  is  a  Wargrave." 

"  An  eff'ete  strain,  there  is  reason  to  fear,"  said 
Cheriton  with  perfect  composure. 

The  head-dress  performed  surprising  feats.    Cher- 


358  ARAMINTA 

iton  fell  to  considerations  of  how  far  it  might  be  safe 
to  bait  the  old  lioness.  No  sport  is  worth  much  with- 
out there  is  a  spice  of  danger  in  it.  He  enjoyed  the 
play  none  the  less  because  he  was  so  sensible  of  its 
peril.  Caroline  Crewkerne  was  not  a  person  to  be 
baited  with  impunity. 

However,  in  spite  of  the  head-dress  and  the  gleams 
of  red  that  flashed  from  the  ruthless  orbs  beneath  it, 
he  was  able  to  assume  an  aspect  of  excellent  indiffer- 
ence. The  finished  duplicity  may  not  have  deceived 
his  old  friend  or  it  may  have  done  so.  At  least  the 
old  lioness  grew  more  couchant  in  her  aspect.  But 
the  mouth  was  as  resolute  in  its  sarcasm  as  ever. 

"  Well,  Caroline,"  said  Cheriton,  amiably,  "  let  us 
settle  the  thing  one  way  or  the  other.  It  is  becoming 
tedious." 

Perhaps  Caroline  thought  so  too.  Or  perhaps  she 
thought  she  had  made  a  reasonably  good  bargain,  all 
things  considered,  and  that  she  was  not  likely  to  do 
better.  For  there  came  a  further  accession  of  scorn 
to  the  grim  old  countenance,  and  for  a  moment  the 
head-dress  ceased  its  immodest  gyrations. 

"  Take  the  girl  and  be  damned,"  said  Caroline 
Crewkerne. 

Cheriton  bowed  with  ironical  politeness.  He  had 
got  his  way,  not  of  course  that  there  was  anything 
surprising  in  that.  He  had  had  it  so  often.  Still 
there  was  a  certain  satisfaction  in  it,  for  it  always 
seems  a  part  of  the  essential  fitness  of  things  that  one 
should  get  one's  way,  no  matter  how  much  one  is 
accustomed  to  getting  it.  He  was  also  a  little  inclined 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEIS-Y-GROS  CASTLE     359 

to  plume  himself,  as  was  too  often  the  case  with  him, 
on  his  diplomacy.  It  was  really  an  achievement  to 
screw  a  cool  three  thousand  a  year  out  of  the  most 
avaricious  old  woman  in  England.  Yet  it  may  have 
been  that  he  had  only  inserted  that  clause  into  the 
negotiations  to  give  them  a  further  spice.  It  had 
enabled  him  to  pose  as  the  prophet  of  justice,  liber- 
ality, and  other  delectable  things.  He  had  never  cared 
greatly  about  money,  but  that  was  no  reason  why  he 
should  not  bait  those  who  did  care  greatly  about  it 
when  he  was  in  need  of  a  little  private  relaxation. 

Cheriton  went  to  bed  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
just.  By  the  exercise  of  his  talents  he  had  got  a 
charming  countess  on  liberal  terms.  How  the  young 
fellows  would  envy  him!  His  affectation  of  youth 
would  now  lose  its  point.  Upon  the  day  he  married 
his  young  goddess  he  would  resume  his  natural  age, 
which  was  sixty-five.  In  his  mind's  eye  he  could  see 
himself  walking  down  the  aisle  on  the  happy  occasion 
with  all  the  gravity  of  a  pillar  of  the  Government, 
of  one  eminent  in  council,  looking  if  anything  rather 
more  than  his  years  in  order  to  score  off  the  rising 
generation. 

"  He  is  so  old,  my  dear !  "  he  could  hear  the  buzz 
of  tongues.  Yes,  so  old;  what  had  happened  to 
Youth  and  its  vaunted  pretensions? 

Caroline  Crewkerne  went  to  bed,  and  she  slept  the 
sleep  of  the  just  also.  All  the  same  there  is  really 
no  reason  why  she  should  have  done  so.  For  there 
was  precious  little  justice  in  that  old  woman.  She 
was  well  satisfied  that  she  had  won  at  cards,  but  in 


360  ARAMINTA 

the  matter  of  her  niece  she  had  a  very  decided  feehng 
that  that  man  Cheriton  had  overreached  her.  The 
clause  of  the  three  thousand  pounds  per  annum  took 
a  good  deal  of  the  gilt  off  the  gingerbread.  With- 
out that  clause  there  would  have  been  a  certain 
amount  of  gilt  upon  it. 

Cheriton,  for  all  his  coxcombry,  was  a  pretty  con- 
siderable parti,  at  whom  the  arrows  of  the  worldly 
had  been  aimed  for  two  generations.  But  in  Caro- 
line's own  phrase,  "  Cheriton  was  no  fool."  In  spite 
of  his  vanity  and  his  fribbling  he  knew  his  way  about 
the  world.  He  was  a  cool  hand.  He  marked  his 
quarry  and  pursued  it  at  his  leisure,  in  his  own  im- 
personal and  peculiar  way,  and  never  once  had  he 
been  caught  napping.  Great  would  be  the  applause 
and  the  merriment  when  it  became  bruited  about  that 
this  astute  bird  had  actually  been  limed  by  the  old 
fowler  of  Hill  Street.  And  after  all  nobody  need 
know  about  that  three  thousand  pounds  per  annum. 

Therefore  both  parties  to  this  transaction  slept 
the  sleep  of  the  just,  and  next  morning  had  breakfast 
in  their  rooms.  At  half-past  five  a.m.  the  uncon- 
scious object  of  their  negotiations  was  haled  out  of 
bed  by  her  sister  Muffin.  And  as  the  descent  to  the 
floor  did  not  arouse  her,  she  was  beaten  about  the 
head  with  a  pillow  until  that  object  had  been  at- 
tained. They  spent  incomparable  hours  among  the 
dew  on  the  slopes  of  Gwydr  and  his  brethren.  Jim 
Lascelles  was  with  them.  He  piloted  them  among 
the  rocks,  and  was  of  course  prepared  to  save  their 
lives  if  necessary. 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-Y-GROS  CASTLE      361 

These  were  indeed  golden  and  enchanted  hours. 
For  all  her  slowness  of  speech  and  action  the  Goose 
Girl  had  a  certain  animation  and  inward  fire  when  in 
her  true  Slocum  Magna  form.  Little  of  it  had  been 
seen  in  Hill  Street,  for  amid  that  rather  dismal 
splendor  she  was  a  bird  in  a  cage.  But  now  with 
the  freedom  of  the  mountains  conferred  upon  her, 
with  Jim  upon  one  hand  and  Muffin  upon  the  other, 
existence  was  a  carol.  The  old  glories  of  the  Red 
House  at  Widdiford  were  revived. 

These  joys  continued  during  a  number  of  glorious 
and  golden  days.  Cheriton,  secure  in  his  prize,  was 
in  no  hurry  to  impale  his  butterfly.  She  was  a  charm- 
ing picture,  and  he  would  claim  her  at  his  leisure. 
In  the  meantime  let  her  garner  up  a  store  of  health 
and  vigor  upon  the  mountains  in  the  society  of  her 
peers.  For,  truth  to  tell,  the  bridegroom-elect  was 
apt  to  get  fatigued  rather  easily,  and  it  was  really 
more  satisfying  to  share  a  red  umbrella  with  an  in- 
tellectual equal  and  to  discuss  the  French  writers  be- 
side the  lake. 

Therefore,  with  that  humane  wisdom  which  dis- 
tinguished him  above  other  men,  Cheriton  was  con- 
tent that  each  of  them  should  continue  in  their  para- 
dise as  long  as  it  could  possibly  endure.  Tilings  were 
going  very  well  as  they  were.  Why  disturb  them? 
The  prize  was  secure.  Caroline  Crewkerne  had  given 
her  sanction  and  had  written  to  her  lawyer  upon  the 
subject.  There  was  really  no  more  to  be  said.  Why 
imperil  the  perfect  harmony  of  the  passing  hour.^ 
All  in  good  season;  when  there  were  no  mountains, 


362  ARAMINTA 

no  lakes,  no  cloudless  August  skies,  no  red  umbrellas, 
no  green  frocks,  no  singularly  companionable,  culti- 
vated, and  agreeable  students  of  the  best  French 
literature,  would  be  the  time  to  speak  of  love. 

Yes,  Cheriton  was  a  cool  hand.  Indeed,  so  much 
so  that  Caroline  Crewkerne  was  a  little  inclined  to 
doubt  his  bona  fides, 

*'  I  have  not  seen  the  creature  in  tears  yet,"  said 
she  three  days  after  that  memorable  night  in  which 
the  compact  was  made. 

"  Do  not  let  us  commit  the  indiscretion,  my  dear 
CaroHne,"  said  the  happy  wooer,  in  his  most  musical 
manner,  "  of  acting  prematurely.  I  have  always 
been  a  believer  in  laissez  faire.  If  things  are  going 
obviously  right,  why  disturb  them.^^  The  creature 
rejoices  like  a  lark  in  her  youth,  her  companions,  and 
her  mountains.  I  am  too  old  for  mountains  myself. 
But  do  not  let  us  curtail  her  happiness  by  a  single 
hour.  And,  upon  my  word,  she  seems  to  grow  more 
glorious  every  time  I  look  at  her." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Caroline  Crewkerne. 

She  was  too  wise  to  say  anything  else. 

"  Let  us  do  nothing,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said  the 
happy  wooer,  "  to  impede  the  spontaneous  acquisi- 
tion of  health,  vigor,  gayety,  and  flowerlike  simplic- 
ity. Upon  my  word,  the  bracing  climate  of  the 
Welsh  mountains  has  given  her  a  fire  and  a  gladness 
and  natural  spontaneity  which  I  do  not  think  even 
Borrow  himself  could  wholly  account  for.  It  does 
one  good  to  sit  apart  and  see  it  grow." 

"  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline  Crewkerne,  "  if  I  had 


REVEL  HELD  AT  PEN-/-GROS  CASTLE     363 

not  the  best  of  reasons  to  know  the  contrary  I  should 
think  you  were  a  fool." 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  be  one  just  now,"  said  he, 
"  in  the  cause  of  youth." 

"  You  were  always  a  coxcomb,"  said  his  unsparing 
critic,  "  and  I  quite  expect  that  one  of  these  days  you 
will  have  to  pay  a  price  for  it.  In  my  opinion  it  is 
quite  time  the  creature  began  to  shed  a  few  tears." 

"  No,  no,  Caroline.  Let  us  have  the  common 
humanity  to  give  her  the  undiluted  joy  of  her 
mountains  as  long  as  we  can." 

Caroline  shook  her  worldly  wise  old  head.  She 
grew  very  thoughtful  indeed.  There  was  the  ques- 
tion of  the  red  umbrella.  But  she  did  not  alarm  her- 
self.    Cheriton  had  played  that  game  so  often. 

The  days  passed  merrily.  It  was  a  perfect  time, 
with  hardly  more  than  the  suspicion  of  a  cloud  about 
the  noble  head  of  Gwydr.  And  as  the  waters  of  Lake 
Dwygy  preserved  their  seductive  and  delicious  cool- 
ness it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  picture  of 
the  naiad  made  great  progress. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  the  wonderful  increase 
of  power  that  had  come  to  Jim  Lascelles.  Having 
given  his  days  to  the  painting  of  the  Goose  Girl  and 
his  nights  to  thoughts  of  her,  this  expenditure  of 
spirit  was  now  manifesting  itself  in  his  brush.  The 
naiad  bade  fair  to  be  a  brilliantly  poetic  composition, 
whose  color  had  that  harmonious  daring  that  had 
given  Monsieur  Gillet  an  European  fame.  The  frank 
treatment  of  the  naiad's  blue  eyes  and  yellow  hair, 
which  had  made  the  portrait  of  her  sister  so  won- 


364  ARAMINTA 

derful,  were  here  adjusted  to  the  majestic  scheme  of 
Dwygy's  blue  waters,  and  Gwydr's  brown  slopes 
crowned  with  a  golden  haze,  with  here  and  there  a 
black  patch  of  the  Avoods  about  Pen-j-Gros.  Cher- 
iton,  who  among  his  other  recommendations  was  a 
trustee  of  the  National  Gallery,  ministered  to  the 
pride  of  the  painter's  mother  by  his  outspoken  praise 
of  what  he  considered  to  be  a  signal  work  of  art. 

The  August  sunshine,  however,  cannot  last  for 
ever.  And  at  last,  as  Muffin's  second  triumphant 
fortnight  was  nearing  its  close,  the  clouds  gathered 
about  Gwydr  and  his  brethren,  and  the  woods  of  Pen- 
y-Gros  were  drenched  with  a  sopping  mist.  This 
presently  turned  to  a  downpour  of  rain  which  lasted 
a  day  and  a  night,  and  in  that  period  something 
happened. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


A    THUNDERBOLT 


WHILE  the  rain  was  beating  with  monotonous 
persistence  upon  the  oriel  windows  of  Pen- 
y-Gros  Castle,  Araminta  was  summoned  to  Aunt 
Caroline's  boudoir.  So  little  did  that  artless  being 
suspect  calamity  that  she  obeyed  the  summons  joy- 
fully, because  she  felt  convinced  that  Aunt  Caroline 
was  to  confer  with  her  as  to  whether  Muffin  would 
like  to  stay  still  longer.  But  it  proved  to  be  some- 
thing else. 

Aunt  Caroline  was  looking  very  bleak  and  formi- 
dable, and  Lord  Cheriton,  who  was  present  also,  had 
never  seemed  so  much  like  a  parent,  so  benevolently 
unbending  was  his  manner. 

"  Girl,"  said  Aunt  Caroline — she  very  seldom  ad- 
dressed Araminta  in  any  other  style  than  "  Girl  " — 
"  sit  there  and  try  not  to  behave  foolishly.  I  am 
going  to  speak  about  your  future." 

So  httle  was  Araminta  preoccupied  with  things  in 
general  that  she  hardly  knew  that  she  had  such  a 
thing  as  a  future.  However,  with  her  usual  docility, 
she  sat  upon  the  chair  that  Aunt  Caroline  had  indi- 
cated, and  proceeded  to  give  her  best  attention  to 
her  august  relation. 

365 


S66  ARAMINTA 

"  I  will  be  brief,"  said  Aunt  Caroline,  with  an 
extremely  businesslike  air.  "  My  old  friend  Lord 
Cheriton  has  been  good  enough  to  take  an  interest  in 
you,  and  if  you  are  a  good  girl  he  will  marry  you. 
You  have  no  objection,  I  presume?  " 

It  was  clear  by  Aunt  Caroline's  tone  that  she 
merely  asked  the  last  question  as  a  matter  of  form. 
But  that  brisk  old  worldling  went  a  little  too  quickly 
for  her  niece  Araminta,  who  was  really  a  very  slow- 
witted  creature.  Some  little  time  had  to  pass  before 
she  could  accept  the  purport  of  Aunt  Caroline's  an- 
nouncement. And  when  at  last  she  was  able  to  do 
so  it  literally  took  away  her  breath. 

Aunt  Caroline  allowed  the  creature  quite  thirty 
seconds  in  which  to  reply.  No  reply  being  forthcom- 
ing in  that  space  of  time,  she  proceeded  to  address 
her  as  though  she  were  a  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

"  Well,  girl,"  said  Aunt  Caroline,  "  what  have  you 
to  say.?" 

Araminta  had  nothing  to  say  apparently.  But 
from  the  uppermost  forehead  to  the  depths  of  the 
neck,  a  slowly  deepening  wave  of  scarlet  was  spread- 
ing over  the  whole  surface  of  her  frank  and  vividly 
colored  countenance. 

"  Humph  1"  said  Aunt  Caroline;  "no  objection 
apparently."  She  then  addressed  a  third  person  very 
succinctly.  "  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  I  congratulate 
you.  You  are  not  everybody's  choice,  and  I  must 
confess  to  some  surprise  that  no  objection  has  been 
urged.  That  is  the  Wargrave  in  her,  I  dare  say. 
The  Wargraves  have  always  known  how  to  accept 


A  THUNDERBOLT  367 

the  inevitable.  They  have  often  gone  to  the  scaffold 
rather  than  make  a  pother." 

"  Family  pride  again,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said 
Cheriton,  in  a  voice  of  honey.  "  Still,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances, perhaps  a  shght  display  of  it  is  pardon- 
able. History  is  not  my  strong  point,  but  I  seem  to 
remember  that  between  the  age  of  Edward  VI.  and 
the  age  of  Victoria  the  Wargraves  went  oftener  to 
the  scaffold  than  anywhere  else.  To  a  layman  that 
always  appears  to  be  one  of  the  baffling  points  about 
the  pride  of  old  families.  If  we  go  back  far  enough 
we  generally  find  that  a  lawyer  who  w^as  too  astute 
to  be  honest  estabhshed  their  fortunes ;  or  a  fellow 
who  managed  to  cheat  the  troops  in  Flanders  of  their 
food  and  clothing." 

"  Don't  be  a  coxcomb,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline, 
sharply.  "  Remember  my  niece.  I  shall  expect  you 
to  be  good  to  her.  Fortunately  for  herself  she  has 
no  brains,  but  she  eats  well  and  sleeps  well,  she  is 
quite  healthy  in  every  respect,  and  her  disposition  is 
affectionate." 

"  Our  dear  Miss  Goose  is  perfectly  charming," 
said  Cheriton,  ogling  Miss  Perry,  w^ho  by  this  time 
was  trembling  violently,  and  who  sat  in  solemn  scar- 
let consternation.  "  I  am  the  proudest  man  in  Eng- 
land." 

Caroline  Crewkeme  raised  a  finger. 

"  You  have  said  enough,  Cheriton,"  said  she.  "  I 
have  my  own  opinion  about  the  transaction,  but  I  am 
inclined  to  think  the  creature  might  have  done  worse. 
You  can  go  now,  girl.     Don't  mention  this  matter 


368  ARAMINTA 

to  your  sister  until  you  have  my  permission  to 
do  so." 

Miss  Perry  rose  with  her  usual  docility,  but  in  her 
countenance  was  an  ever-deepening  scarlet.  She  moved 
slowly  and  heavily  to  the  door  of  the  boudoir  without 
speaking  a  word,  either  to  her  aunt  or  to  Lord  Cher- 
iton.  Her  hand  was  already  upon  the  door  when  she 
turned  round  and  faced  the  former.  The  blue  eyes 
were  full  of  dismay. 

"  If  you  please,  Aunt  Caroline,"  she  drawled  in 
her  ridiculous  manner,  "I  don't  quite  think  I  can 
marry  Lord  Cheriton." 

The  old  woman  sat  up  in  her  chair  in  the  manner 
of  a  Lord  Chief  Justice  who  has  been  confronted  with 
a  flagrant  contempt  of  court. 

"  What  do  3^ou  mean,  girl?  "  said  she.  "  You 
don't  quite  think  you  can  marry  Lord  Cheriton. 
Explain  your  meaning." 

In  the  most  favorable  circumstances  it  was  never 
very  easy  for  Miss  Perry  to  explain  her  meaning.  In 
these  she  seemed  to  find  considerable  difficulty  in 
doing  so.  Aunt  Caroline  gave  her  exactly  thirty 
seconds,  but  Miss  Perry  required  longer  than 
that. 

"  Speak,  girl,"  said  Aunt  CaroHne.  "  Are  you 
dumb.?" 

Miss  Perry  was  not  dumb,  but  speech  had  never 
been  so  tardy. 

"  Girl,  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  explain," 
said  the  old  lady,  "  why  you  are  not  quite  able  to 
marry  Lord  Cheriton?  " 


A  THUNDERBOLT  869 

At  last  Miss  Perry  was  able  to  furnish  the  re- 
quired explanation. 

"  If  you  please,  Aunt  Caroline,"  she  drawled 
ridiculously,  "  I  have  p-r-r-romised  to  marry  Jim." 

The  old  lady's  ebony  walking-stick  fell  to  the 
ground  so  peremptorily  that  Ponto  was  disturbed  in 
his  slumbers. 

"  Jim !  "  said  Aunt  Caroline.  "  Who,  pray,  is 
Jim.?" 

''  Jim  Lascelles,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

"  I  presume  you  mean  the  painting  man,"  said 
Aunt  Caroline. 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Perry. 

There  was  a  pause  in  which  Cheriton  and  his  old 
friend  looked  at  one  another  long  and  particularly. 

"  Hand  me  my  stick,  girl,"  said  Aunt  Caroline. 

Miss  Perry  did  as  she  was  desired.  Her  manner 
of  doing  it  seemed  to  imply  that  she  expected  to 
receive  physical  correction. 

"  Sit  down,  girl,"  said  Aunt  Caroline. 

Miss  Perry  resumed  her  chair,  doubtless  with  an 
emotion  of  thankfulness  upon  her  narrow  escape. 

"  I  could  not  have  believed  it  to  be  possible,"  said 
Aunt  Caroline,  speaking  very  slowly,  "  that  a  War- 
grave  could  have  been  so  imprudent,  so  ungrateful, 
so  entirely  lacking  in  self-respect." 

This  indictment  was  delivered  in  the  most  deliber- 
ate and  crushing  manner ;  but  a  good  deal  of  the  ef- 
fect was  marred  because  Cheriton  laughed  outright 
in  the  middle  of  it.  Aunt  Caroline,  however,  pre- 
sented a  haughty  indifference  to  the  behavior  of  the 


870  ARAMINTA 

husband-elect,  who,  of  course,  was  not  himself  a  War- 
grave,  and  whose  behavior  in  this  crisis  showed  that 
fact  clearly. 

"  Are  you  mad,  girl?  "  said  the  old  lady.  "  Answer 
me." 

"  Jim  is  awfully  nice,"  drawled  Miss  Perry. 

The  ebony  walking-stick  and  the  head-dress  per- 
formed a  concerted  piece  together  which  filled  Ponto 
with  consternation. 

"  The  creature  must  be  a  natural." 

Miss  Perry  grew  bolder,  however,  as  the  clear  con- 
viction that  she  was  pledged  to  Jim  Lascelles  took  a 
firmer  hold  upon  her. 

"  We  shall  not  marry  just  yet,  don't  you  know," 
said  Miss  Perry,  with  the  air  of  one  who  imparts 
valuable  information.  "  But  Jim  is  going  to  get  rich 
so  that  he  can  buy  back  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford, 
and  then  we  are  going  to  live  in  it,  and  it  will  be  too 
sweet." 

Aunt  Caroline  having  grown  incoherent  with 
legitimate  anger  it  devolved  upon  Cheriton  to  say 
something. 

"  Capital !  "  said  he,  in  a  most  benevolent  manner. 

This  expression  of  opinion  helped  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne  through  her  crisis. 

"  You  inconceivably  foolish  girl,"  said  she.  "  Have 
you  no  sense  of  decency?  " 

"  Muffin  has  p-r-r-romised  to  wear  her  mauve  at 
the  wedding,"  drawled  Miss  Perry. 

Had  not  the  husband-elect  blown  his  nose  very 
vigorously   there   is   reason   to   fear   that   he  would 


A  THUNDERBOLT  371 

again  have  been  guilty  of  conduct  unlike  that  of  a 
Wargrave. 

"  Silence,  girl !  "  said  Aunt  Caroline.  "  Don't 
speak  another  word  until  you  have  permission.  This 
comes  of  crossing  the  breed.  Now  listen  to  me.  The 
sooner  you  remove  the  man  Lascelles  from  that  incon- 
ceivably foolish  and  demoralized  head  of  yours  the 
better  it  will  be  for  you.  Where  is  your  self-respect.'' 
Where  is  your  sense  of  decency  .-^  " 

"  Muffin "   said  Miss   Perry,  but  she  got  no 

farther  because  an  imperious  finger  stayed  her. 

"  Don't  speak,"  said  Aunt  Caroline.  "  Simply 
listen.  Dismiss  the  man  Lascelles  from  your  mind, 
and  try  to  remember  who  you  are,  and  where  you 
are,  and  what  you  are  saying.  My  old  friend  Lord 
Cheriton  desires  to  marry  you.  Understand  that 
clearly.  And  he  has  my  permission  to  do  so.  Un- 
derstand that  clearly  also.  Now  you  may  say  some- 
thing." 

Miss  Perry  took  advantage  of  this  gracious  per- 
mission to  turn  to  Lord  Cheriton  with  a  charmingly 
friendly  smile  upon  her  scarlet  countenance. 

"  It  is  so  dear  of  you.  Lord  Cheriton,"  she  said, 
"  and  if  I  were  not  going  to  marry  Jim  I  would  marry 
you.     Perhaps  Muffin " 

Aunt  Caroline  affronted  the  nerves  of  Ponto  by 
rapping  sharply  with  her  stick  upon  the  floor. 

"  You  have  said  sufficient,"  said  she.  "  Dismiss 
the  man  Lascelles  from  your  mind  once  and  for  all, 
You  are  going  to  marry  Lord  Cheriton.  Is  that  quite 
clear?" 


372  ARAMINTA 

Apparently  this  was  not  quite  so  clear  to  Miss 
Perry  as  it  was  to  Aunt  Caroline.  For  that  Feather- 
brain opened  her  eyes  so  widely  that  they  seemed  to 
acquire  the  color  of  violets,  and  a  look  of  sheer  per- 
plexity settled  upon  her  frank  countenance. 

"  But  if  you  don't  mind,  dearest  Aunt  Caroline," 
said  she,  "  I  p-r-r-romised  to  marry  Jim." 

Aunt  Caroline  began  to  storm. 

"  Is  the  girl  a  dolt !  "  she  cried.  "  Has  she  no 
brains  at  all !  Girl,  have  the  goodness  to  listen  once 
more.  Your  father,  your  brothers,  and  your  sisters 
are  all  poor  as  mice,  are  they  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dearest  Aunt  Caroline,"  said  Miss  Perry, 
quite  simply. 

"  Very  good.  Now  heed  this  carefully.  By  the 
terms  of  your  marriage  settlement,  which  I  may  say 
I  have  been  able  to  arrange  not  without  difficulty, 
you  will  become  a  countess  with  six  thousand  a  year  in 
your  own  right,  with  a  house  to  live  in,  and  your 
father  or  one  of  your  brothers  will  have  the  reversion 
of  a  living  worth  eleven  hundred  a  year  which  is  in 
Lord  Cheriton's  gift.  Now  have  you  the  intelligence 
to  comprehend  all  that  I  have  said  to  you.'*  " 

Apparently  Miss  Perry  had.  Doubtless  her  un- 
derstanding was  a  slow  moving  and  cumbrous  mech- 
anism which  generally  found  infinite  difficulty  in 
assimilating  the  most  obvious  facts;  but  it  was  very 
difficult  for  the  most  obtuse  person  to  misunderstand 
Caroline  Crewkerne.  Slowly  but  surely  her  hard  lu- 
cidity percolated  to  the  recesses  of  Miss  Perry's 
mind ;  and  just  as  slowly  and  as  surely  as  it  did,  large 


A  THUNDERBOLT 

solemn  tears  welled  into  the  eyes  that  had  deepened 
to  the  color  of  violets.  They  rolled  in  ridiculous  pro- 
cession down  the  crimson  cheeks. 

Neither  Caroline  Crewkerne  nor  Cheriton  was 
affected  easily,  but  there  was  something  in  the  solemn 
slow-drawn  emotion  of  Miss  Perry  that  imposed 
silence  upon  them.  The  silence  that  ensued  was  un- 
comfortable and  by  tacit  consent  it  was  left  to  Miss 
Perry  herself  to  terminate  it. 

"  It  is  so  dear  of  you  both,"  she  said,  "  to  be  so 
good  to  me.  I  shall  write  to  dearest  papa  about  you, 
but  I  p-r-r-romised  Jim." 

Aunt  Caroline  snorted. 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  your  father  will  say 
to  you,  you  simpleton,"  said  she,  "  when  he  learns 
what  you  have  done .?  Now  take  my  advice.  Send  the 
man  Lascelles  to  me.  I  will  deal  with  him.  And 
then  you  must  prepare  to  marry  Lord  Cheriton  some 
time  in  October." 

But  Miss  Perry  sat  the  picture  of  woe.  It  is  true 
that  in  the  opinion  of  Cheriton  she  sat  a  perfectly 
enchanting  picture  of  it ;  yet  at  the  same  time  it  gave 
him  no  particular  pleasure  to  observe  that  the  absurd 
creature  was  shedding  real  tears,  tears  which* some- 
how seemed  almost  majestic  in  their  simple  sincerity. 

Miss  Perry  was  dismissed  with  strict  instructions 
not  to  mention  the  subject  to  anyone. 

"  What  a  creature ! "  said  CaroHne  Crewkerne, 
when  the  door  had  closed  upon  her  niece. 

She  contented  herself  with  that  expression.  As 
for   Cheriton,  he  gave   an   amused   shrug   and   said 


374  ARAMINTA 

nothing.  For  all  his  nonchalance  perhaps  he  could 
not  help  feeling  that  he  had  been  tempting  Provi- 
dence. Yet  so  ingrained  was  his  habit  of  cynicism 
that  it  may  not  have  occurred  to  him  that  he  had 
anything  to  fear  from  Jim  Lascelles.  The  young 
fellow  had  not  a  shilling  in  the  world ;  he  had  a  good 
head  on  his  shoulders ;  and  he  had  been  brought  up 
properly.  That  in  such  circumstances  he  should 
have  taken  the  unpardonable  liberty  of  offering  to 
marry  Caroline  Crewkerne's  niece  was  totally  at 
variance  with  his  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of 
human  nature  as  he  understood  it. 

Caroline  Crewkerne  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Cheriton,"  said  she,  "  we  are  both  of  us  old 
enough  to  know  better.  In  the  first  place,  you  ought 
not  to  have  brought  that  man  to  Hill  Street ;  and  in 
the  second,  I  ought  not  to  have  allowed  him  to  enter 
the  house.  However,  the  mischief  is  done.  We  must 
now  take  steps  to  repair  it." 

*'  I  shall  be  interested,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said 
Cheriton,  in  his  most  agreeable  manner,  "  to  learn 
what  the  steps  are  you  propose  to  take." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


BOOK 


THE  husband-elect  felt  a  perfectly  legitimate 
curiosity  concerning  the  course  to  be  adopted 
in  this  crisis  by  this  eminently  worldly  wise,  hard- 
headed,  and  matter-of-fact  diplomatist. 

"  Do  you  assure  me  positively  that  the  man  is  a 
gentleman?  "  said  Caroline  Crewkerne. 

Cheriton  ruminated.  The  term,  as  he  understood 
it  and  as  Caroline  interpreted  it,  was  of  a  somewhat 
baffling  complexity. 

"  Ye-es,"  said  he,  after  an  interval  of  unusually 
weighty  reflection ;  "  I  should  be  inclined  to  say  the 
young  chap  was  by  way  of  being  one." 

"  As  that  is  your  opinion,"  said  Caroline,  grimly, 
"  I  shall  speak  a  few  words  to  him  myself  upon  the 
subject." 

Cheriton  gave  this  determination  the  benefit  of  an 
ample  measure  of  his  consideration. 

"  My  dear  Caroline,"  said  he,  "  It  is  either  the 
worst  thing  you  can  do,  or  it  is  the  best." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Cheriton,"  said  Caroline  Crew- 
kerne. "  And  it  all  depends  upon  the  man  himself. 
Tell  Burden  to  look  him  up  in  Walford." 

375 


376  ARAMINTA 

Walford  preserved  so  much  discretion  upon  the 
subject  of  Jim  Lascelles  that,  although  several  of  his 
name  were  mentioned,  neither  he  nor  his  forbears  were 
singled  out  for  special  notice.  The  practical  Caro- 
line, having  duly  recorded  the  fact  that  "  it  was  as 
she  feared,"  desired  to  know  whether  Walford  had 
anything  to  say  upon  the  subject  of  his  mother. 
However,  as  no  one  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  was 
acquainted  with  the  maiden  name  of  Jim's  mother, 
Caroline's  curiosity  in  regard  to  her  also  had  to  go 
unsatisfied.  Nevertheless,  she  had  fully  decided  to 
speak  to  the  presumptuous  young  man  upon  the  sub- 
ject. 

To  that  end  John  was  dispatched  after  dinner 
that  evening  to  the  lodgings  of  Mr.  James  Lascelles 
in  Pen-y-Gros  hamlet  with  the  compliments  of  his 
mistress  and  the  request  that  Mr.  Lascelles  would  call 
at  the  Castle  at  noon  on  the  morrow. 

Mr.  Lascelles  sent  back  the  information  that  he 
would  be  pleased  to  do  so.  Yet  no  sooner  had  the 
gate  of  the  cottage  clicked  behind  the  emissary  from 
the  Castle  than  he  repented,  and  it  was  only  in  defer- 
ence to  the  wisdom  of  his  mother  that  John  was  not 
recalled. 

Jim's  mother  shook  her  head  over  him  with  sage 
indulgence. 

"  When  will  you  learn,  my  son,"  said  she,  "  that 
old  ladies  who  live  in  Hill  Street  must  be  treated 
au  grand  serieux  by  rising  young  painters  who  live 
at  Balham?" 

"  Yes,  old  lady,  I  suppose  so,"  said  Jim,  ruefully. 


JIM  LASCELLES  WilITES  HIS  NAME    377 

"  And  if  one  James  Lascelles  is  ever  to  find  the  where- 
withal to  get  back  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford,  he 
will  have  to  learn  to  keep  his  tongue  in  his  cheek  and 
his  back  supple ;  and  also  learn  how  to  stroke  the  fur 
of  every  old  cat  that  ever  stuck  somebody  else's 
coronet  upon  the  panel  of  her  carriage." 

"  For  shame,  my  son !  "  said  Jim's  mother. 

And  she  bestowed  an  embrace  upon  James  which 
he  really  did  not  deserve. 

Jim's  powers  of  resentment  were  unchristian  and 
did  him  no  credit,  but  perhaps  he  would  have  shown 
less  promise  in  his  art  had  he  been  less  susceptible  to 
the  rubs  of  the  world.  That  is  the  best  that  can  be 
said  for  him. 

However,  as  the  morning  v/as  wet,  he  did  not  mind 
so  much  that  he  was  due  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  at 
noon.  He  put  on  his  carefully  brushed  blue  suit  and 
the  black-silk  tie  that  his  mother  had  knitted  for  him 
recently  with  her  own  fair  hands,  and  at  twelve 
o'clock  precisely  he  was  seeking  admittance  at  the 
gloomy  portals.  As  he  did  so  he  looked  in  vain  for 
signs  of  the  Goose  Girl  and  the  Muffin  Girl.  He 
could  not  help  speculating  as  to  what  the  old  heathen 
wanted  him  for.  Nothing  pleasant,  he  would  take 
his  oath.  Doubtless  the  Goose  had  blabbed.  If  so,  a 
warm  quarter  of  an  hour  was  before  him.  Yet  he 
felt  that  he  should  not  mind  that  particularly.  After 
all,  the  old  beldame  was  quite  Hkely  to  receive  as 
good  as  she  gave. 

John  received  him,  and  handed  him  over  to  Mr. 
Marchbanks   himself,    who   said,   "  Will   you   kindly 


378  ARAMINTA 

come  this  way,  sir  ?  "  in  the  manner  that  he  alone 
could  say  it. 

Jim  followed  Mr.  Marchbanks,  after  bestowing  a 
somewhat  contemptuous  glance  at  a  daub  in  the 
entrance  hall  which  purported  to  be  the  work  of  one 
Tintoret.  A  little  further  along,  however,  was  a 
Cavalier  by  Vandyck,  which  was  more  to  his  taste. 
He  glanced  at  the  furniture  also,  which  in  its  way 
was  magnificent.  It  was  of  embossed  Spanish  leather. 
At  the  head  of  the  wide  stone-flagged  staircase  up 
which  he  was  conducted,  was  a  portiere  of  Gobelin 
tapestry.  Passing  through  this,  he  was  taken  along 
a  corridor  containing  good  pictures  and  bad, 
and  mediseval  weapons  and  suits  of  armor,  until  at 
last  he  found  himself  in  an  extremely  cozy  room  con- 
taining seductive  lounges  and  strewn  with  Turkish 
mats.  And  there,  seated  alone  and  singularly  up- 
right in  a  high-backed  chair,  with  a  perfectly  re- 
volting little  dog  sleeping  at  her  footstool,  was  the 
old  woman  Jim  Lascelles  so  cordially  disliked. 

Jim  was  a  little  surprised  that  the  old  woman 
deigned  to  offer  not  two  fingers  only,  but  the  whole 
of  her  hand. 

"  What  is  in  the  wind,  I  wonder.?  "  mused  Jim,  as 
he  accepted  it  with  his  best  bow. 

"  It  is  good  of  you  to  come,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said 
the  old  woman,  by  no  means  ungraciously.  Remember 
there  never  was  an  old  woman  yet  who  could  not  con- 
trive to  be  agreeable  if  she  really  made  up  her  mind 
to  be  so.  And  Caroline  Crewkerne  was  no  exception 
to  the  universal  rule.     "  Pray  be  seated,"  said  she. 


JIM  LASCELLES  WRITES  HIS  NAME    379 

Jim  Lascelles  took  the  chair  that  was  farthest 
from  her  ladyship. 

The  old  woman  was  very  concise,  matter-of-fact, 
and  businesslike.  She  spoke  slowly,  she  enunciated 
her  words  with  beautiful  clearness ;  In  short,  she  was 
a  model  of  what  you  would  expect  her  to  be.  She 
was  all  compact  of  hard-headed,  clear-cut,  practical 
sagacity. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  upon  an  important  sub- 
ject," she  began.  "  It  has  come  to  my  knowledge  that 
you  have  been  paying  your  addresses  to  my  niece, 
Miss  Perry." 

Jim  Lascelles  was  prepared  for  the  speech  In  its 
substance,  but  its  calm,  matter-of-fact,  non-commit- 
tal air  was  baffling  to  him. 

"  In  a  sense.  Lady  Crewkerrle,  that  Is  correct," 
said  Jim. 

The  old  woman  nodded,  not  unamlably,  however. 

"  It  is  a  matter  of  regret  to  me  that  you  should 
have  done  so,"  said  she.  "  It  is  likely  to  be  of  grave 
prejudice  to  my  niece." 

"  I  am  indeed  sorry  to  learn  that,"  said  Jim,  with 
excellent  gravity. 

"  I  will  explain.  My  niece  Is  a  penniless  girl,  and 
I  am  given  to  understand,  Mr.  Lascelles,  that  you  are 
yourself  a  young  professional  man  with  your  way  to 
make  in  the  world." 

"  Your  information  Is  correct.  Lady  Crewkerne," 
said  Jim,  who  was  sufficiently  impartial  to  admire 
the  old  woman's  statesmanlike  plainness. 

"  That  being  the  case,"  she  proceeded,  "  a  union 


380  ARAMINTA 

between  you  is  undesirable  from  my  niece's  point  of 
view,  and  also  from  your  own." 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  entirely  without  prospects,  Lady 
Crewkerne,"  said  Jim,  who,  however,  did  not  mention 
his  prospects  with  any  great  depth  of  conviction. 

"  They  belong  to  the  future,"  said  the  old  woman. 
"  They  will  take  time  to  materialize.  I  prefer  to  deal 
with  the  present." 

"  Miss  Perry  and  I  had  not  contemplated  marriage 
just  at  present,"  said  Jim. 

"  Quite  so,"  said  the  aunt  of  Miss  Perry.  "  It  is 
sensible  of  you  both  not  to  do  so." 

The  old  woman's  tone  was  devoid  of  irony,  but  the 
absence  of  it  merely  seemed  to  heighten  the  amount 
there  was  in  her  aspect  of  that  undesirable  quality. 
Jim  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  human  countenance 
that  he  liked  so  little. 

"  What  I  wish  to  point  out  to  you,"  the  old 
woman  went  on,  "  is  that  my  niece  has  lately  received 
an  offer  of  marriage  from  a  person  who  has  excellent 
credentials." 

From  the  first  Jim  had  been  expecting  some  such 
thunderbolt.  Therefore  he  contrived  to  maintain  his 
pose  of  scrupulously  polite  attention. 

"  As  far  as  Miss  Perry's  well-being  is  concerned,  I 
am  glad  to  know  that.  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  Jim, 
with  an  urbanity  that  did  him  great  credit.  "  As  far 
as  my  own  is  concerned,  I  deplore  it." 

"  The  offer  of  marriage  my  niece  has  received," 
said  the  old  woman,  "  is  of  such  a  character  that 
those  who  have  her  welfare  at  heart  feel  very  strongly 


JIM  LASCELLES  WRITES  HIS  NAME    381 

that  she  is  bound  to  entertain  it.  Not  only  will  it 
give  her  an  assured  position  socially,  but  also  it  will 
establish  the  fortunes  of  her  family,  which,  as  you  are 
doubtless  aware,  are  at  a  low  ebb." 

Jim  gave  a  little  nod  to  assure  the  old  woman  that 
he  was  not  unacquainted  with  the  fortunes  of  Miss 
Perry's  family. 

"  In  these  circumstances,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  she, 
briefly,  "  I  think  your  course  is  clear." 

Jim,  however,  assumed  an  air  of  perplexity. 

"  I  wish.  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  he,  "  that  I  shared 
your  opinion." 

The  old  woman  showed  no  acerbity. 

"  Have  the  goodness,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  she,  "  to 
examine  the  matter  in  a  rational  light,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  a  man  of  the  world." 

A  short  period  was  conceded  to  Jim  Lascelles  for 
the  purpose  of  doing  so. 

"  I  suppose.  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  Jim,  at  the 
termination  of  the  period,  "  you  wish  me  to  give  her 
up?" 

"  I  do,"  said  the  old  woman. 

Jim  pondered  a  Httle.  It  was  not  very  easy  to  give 
up  the  Goose  Girl.  But  this  uncompromising  old 
heathen  in  her  great  head-dress,  and  installed  in  her 
state  chair  of  embossed  Spanish  leather,  had  shown 
him  his  duty.  And  she  had  used  the  fewest  possible 
words  in  contriving  it. 

"  Your  duty  is  perfectly  obvious  to  my  mind, 
Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  she,  after  a  full  minute  of  silence 
had  passed. 


382  ARAMINTA 

"  Ye-es,"  said  Jim,  drawing  in  his  breath ;  "  doubt- 
less that  is  so." 

Jim  Lascelles  took  another  minute  to  see  if  there 
was  any  way  possible  of  circumventing  his  obvious 
duty.     And  then  he  rose  from  his  chair. 

"  Lady  Crewkerne,"  said  he,  "  to-morrow  my 
mother  and  I  will  leave  the  neighborhood.  We  thank 
you  very  much  for  the  hospitality  you  have  shown 
us." 

Jim  bowed  gravely,  and  prepared  to  take  his  leave 
with  the  air  of  one  who  has  performed  a  dignified 
action. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  the  old  woman, 
upon  a  note  of  veiled  sarcasm,  which  yet  was  not  so 
unpleasant  as  it  might  have  been.  "  I  am  obliged  to 
you.  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  write  your  name  in 
the  visitors'  book." 

In  this  fashion  the  audience  terminated  with  a 
display  of  dignity  upon  both  sides.  Of  course  it  was 
proper  and  natural  that  it  should  be  conducted  in 
this  manner,  considering  where  it  was  held.  So  much 
was  clearly  demanded  by  every  detail  of  its  surround- 
ings. And  in  the  hall  Mr.  Lascelles  wrote  his  name 
in  the  visitors'  book  immediately  below  that  of  George 
Betterton,  who  had  left  Pen-y-Gros  Castle  the  previ- 
ous week. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

GOOD-BY 

BEFORE  breakfast  next  morning  Jim  Lascelles 
said  good-by  to  the  Goose  Girl  on  the  slopes  of 
Gwydr.  It  was  an  overwhelming  day  for  that  slow- 
witted,  but  tenaciously  affectionate,  creature.  Muffin 
was  leaving  also  by  the  eleven-o'clock  train. 

The  eyes  of  Miss  Perry  were  heavy  with  the  tears 
she  had  wept,  and  with  the  tears  she  had  still  to 
weep.  Prior  to  this  tragic  morning  Jim  Lascelles 
had  not  spoken  to  her  upon  the  subject  of  Lord 
Cheriton,  but  the  ruthless  Aunt  Caroline  had  very 
unceremoniously  imbued  her  with  a  sense  of  duty.  All 
too  soon  the  golden  age  had  ended.  Somehow  she 
felt  that  she  would  never  climb  the  mountains  again. 

In  obedience  to  Aunt  Carohne's  injunction  she  had 
told  Muffin  nothing  of  the  tragedy.  That  practical- 
minded  person  and  uncommonly  sound  sleeper  had 
been  awakened  six  times  during  the  night  by  Goose's 
low  sobs  and  convulsive  caresses.  On  each  occasion 
she  had  given  Goose  a  hug  in  return,  and  told  her 
not  to  be  silly,  and  had  immediately  gone  to  sleep 
again. 

When  daylight  came  and  Muffin  discovered  her 
sister's  pink-and-white   countenance  to  be  puckered 

383 


384  ARAMINTA 

with  distress,  that  acute  intelligence  at  once  sought 
the  remedy. 

"  I  will  stay  with  Aunt  Caroline,"  said  Muffin,  "  if 
she  will  have  me,  and  you  shall  go  back.  Goose  dar- 
ling, to  Slocum  Magna  to  dearest  papa.  But  if  you 
do,  you  must  promise  to  feed  my  rabbits,  because 
Milly  always  forgets  them.  Now  wipe  your  eyes, 
and  don't  be  a  silly." 

Goose  promised  to  feed  the  rabbits  if  she  went  back 
to  Slocum  Magna,  but  she  felt  sure  that  Aunt  Caro- 
line would  not  like  her  to. 

Up  till  the  departure  of  the  eleven-o'clock  train 
Araminta  put  forth  great  efforts  to  be  brave ;  but  she 
had  had  such  little  practice  in  the  art,  owing  to  hav- 
ing lived  a  life  for  the  most  part  where  little  bravery 
was  called  for,  that  she  did  not  wholly  succeed.  How- 
ever, when  she  saw  Jim  Lascelles  striding  towards 
them  over  the  mountains  at  a  quarter  past  six,  in  re- 
sponse to  his  cheery,  "  Hallo,  you  there !  "  she  con- 
trived to  greet  him  in  something  of  the  true  Widdi- 
ford  manner. 

In  the  opinion  of  Jim  Lascelles,  the  first  thing 
necessary  was  to  get  rid  of  Muffin  for  an  hour. 
And  this  was  quite  easy,  for  the  devotion  of  that 
practical  mind  to  the  fauna  and  flora  of  the  neigh- 
borhood often  caused  her  to  spend  an  hour  in  the 
investigation  of  a  dozen  square  yards  of  the  Welsh 
principality. 

Upon  this  fateful  morning  less  than  a  third  of 
Gwydr  had  been  ascended  when  a  profusion  of  rare 
ferns   and  mosses  claimed  Muffin's  attention.     Jim 


GOOD-BY  S85 

Lascelles  walked  forward  briskly,  with  his  hand 
firmly  holding  the  docile  sleeve  of  the  Goose  Girl. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Jim,  with  an  affection  of  gayety 
that  was  most  honorable  to  him.  "  Let  us  leave  that 
Ragamuffin.  In  she  goes,  over  her  ankles  into  the 
mud.  Tom  a  great  piece  out  of  her  skirt  on  a 
brier.  By  the  way.  Goose  Girl,  has  Aunt  Caroline 
said  anything  to  you  upon  the  subject  of  Lord 
Cheriton.?" 

Mournfully  enough  the  Goose  Girl  confessed  that 
Aunt  Caroline  had. 

"  Well,  you  must  buck  up,  you  know,"  said  Jim, 
cheerily.  "  You  are  going  to  be  a  countess,  and  the 
family  of  Wakefield — Slocum  Magna,  I  mean — will 
come  again  into  its  own." 

Miss  Perry's  only  reply  was  to  break  forth  into  a 
succession  of  slow-drawn  sobs,  which  were  so  heavy 
and  majestic  that  Jim  declared  they  shook  the  moun- 
tain. 

"  Here  is  a  dry  place,"  said  he.  "  Let  us  sit  down 
before  you  do  some  damage  to  the  scenery." 

They  sat  down  together  upon  Gwydr,  with  the 
chill  mists  enfolding  them.  For  twenty  minutes  the 
Goose  Girl  said  nothing,  but  merely  sobbed  to  herself 
slowly  and  softly  with  the  daffodil-colored  mane 
pressed  against  Jim's  shoulder.  Such  depth  and 
power  had  the  Goose  Girl's  emotion  that  it  really 
seemed  to  Jim  Lascelles  that,  had  her  heart  not  been 
a  particularly  robust  organ,  it  must  have  been 
broken  in  pieces. 

"  I  am  afraid,"   said  Jim,   rather  miserably,  "  I 


386  ARAMINTA 

have  been  a  bit  of  a  cad  for  leading  you  on,  you 
great  silly  Goose." 

Miss  Perry  flung  her  arms  about  Jim's  neck  with 
such  force  and  suddenness  that  she  nearly  toppled 
him  backwards  over  a  precipice. 

"  Jim,"  she  sobbed,  "  you  m-must  m-marry  M-Muf- 
fin." 

As  Jim  was  in  the  toils  of  a  hug  that  almost  for- 
bade him  to  breathe,  he  was  not  able  to  reply  imme- 
diately. 

"  That  Ragamuffin !  "  said  Jim,  as  soon  as  he  was 
able  to  do  so. 

"  She  is  such  a  s-sweet,"  sobbed  Miss  Perry. 

"  You  Goose !  "  said  Jim.  "  Give  me  a  kiss,  you 
great  Goose." 

Miss  Perry  proceeded  to  do  so. 

"  That  Ragamuffin  doesn't  know  about  it,  does 
she.?" 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Miss  Perry.  "  Aunt  Caroline  said 
she  was  not  to." 

"  That  is  a  wise  old  woman.  Quite  right  for  the 
Ragamuffin  not  to  know  about  it.  She  is  too  young. 
Now  dry  those  Eye  Pieces,  Goose  Girl,  and  don't  be 
a  silly.  Old  man  Cheriton  is  a  very  nice,  kind, 
fatherly  old  gentleman." 

"  He  is  a  dear,"  said  Miss  Perry,  with  a  loyalty 
that  Jim  was  forced  to  admire. 

"  You  are  really  a  very  lucky  Goose,  you  know," 
said  Jim.  "  You  will  have  a  nice,  kind  old  gentleman 
to  take  you  to  parties  and  to  the  circus.  He  will  give 
Buszard   a    contract    for   the  large   size,   see   if   he 


GOOD-BY  387 

doesn't.  And  Dickie  will  get  a  living,  see  if  he 
doesn't ;  and  Charley  will  go  to  Sandhurst.  As  for 
Papa,  you  will  be  able  to  buy  him  the  Oxford  dic- 
tionary ;  Polly  is  as  good  as  married  to  her  parson ; 
Milly  can  go  to  a  boarding-school  at  Brighton ;  I  am 
absolutely  confident  that  the  Ragamuffin  will  have  a 
new  mauve ;  and  as  for  Tobias,  he  will  be  able  to  live 
in  Grosvenor  Square." 

"Do  you  think  so,  Jim.?"  said  Miss  Perry,  tear- 
fully. 

Jim  Lascelles  really  covered  himself  with  honor 
that  unhappy  morning  upon  Gwydr.  For  it  is  due  to 
him  to  say  that  Aunt  Caroline  had  knocked  the  bot- 
tom out  of  his  little  world.  He  had  been  tumbled 
out  of  his  fool's  paradise  in  such  a  ruthless  fashion 
that  he  really  did  not  know  how  he  was  going  to  get 
over  the  fall. 

From  his  earliest  youth  he  had  had  a  sneaking 
fondness  for  the  Goose  Girl.  He  had  bled  for  her, 
for  one  thing.  And  now  that  she  had  blossomed  forth 
into  this  gorgeous  being  who  had  conquered  the  town, 
she  had  become  so  much  a  part  of  his  fortunes  that 
he  found  it  impossible  to  dissociate  them  from  her. 
The  portrait  he  had  painted  of  her  had  absorbed  all 
he  had  had  to  give.  It  could  never  have  been  wrought 
unless  something  of  her  own  magnificence  had  become 
part  of  him.  Such  a  picture  was  composed  of  the 
living  tissue  of  love.  It  was  almost  more  than  human 
flesh  and  blood  could  endure  to  be  told  in  a  few  blunt 
words  that  the  source  of  his  inspiration  must  be  a 
sealed  fountain  from  that  time  forth. 


388  ARAMINTA 

However,  he  went  through  with  his  ordeal  as  well 
as  in  him  lay.  Great  had  been  his  folly  that  he  had 
ever  come  to  inhabit  his  paradise  at  all.  And  now 
that  he  was  tumbled  out  of  it,  it  behoved  him  to  see 
that  he  made  no  cry  over  his  bruises,  if  only  because 
that  other  foolish  simpleton  was  striving  not  to  cry 
over  hers. 

The  departure  from  the  railway  station  at 
Dwygyfy  was  a  seemly  affair.  The  Castle  omnibus, 
a  contemporary  of  the  Ark,  brought  Muffin  in  state. 
She  was  accompanied,  of  course,  by  Polly's  dress- 
basket,  marked  "  M.  P."  in  white  letters  on  a  black 
ground ;  and  was  also  accompanied  by  Miss  Burden, 
Ponto,  Lord  Cheriton,  and  the  dismal  Goose.  On  the 
way  they  picked  up  Jim  and  his  mother  and  their 
belongings,  including  the  half -finished  picture  of  The 
Naiad. 

Muffin  herself  was  in  high  feather.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life  she  found  herself  a  person  of  means 
and  position.  Aunt  Caroline  had  marked  her  esteem 
for  her  character  and  conduct  by  presenting  her  with 
a  bank-note  for  ten  pounds.  Muffin,  with  that  prac- 
tical sagacity  which  always  distinguished  her  inter- 
course with  the  world,  was  at  first  very  uncertain  in 
what  manner  to  convey  this  royal  gift  to  Slocum 
Magna.  Eventually  she  tore  it  in  two  pieces,  placing 
half  in  each  stocking. 

The  Goose  Girl  behaved  with  signal  bravery  upon 
the  down  platform  at  Dwygyfy.  Jim  wished  at  first 
that  she  had  not  come.  But  she  contrived  to  restrain 
her  feehngs  nobly,  as  of  course  was  only  to  be  ex- 


GOOD-BY  389 

pected  of  a  Wargrave,  a  family  which  had  gone  so 
often  to  the  scaffold.  In  consequence,  they  were  able 
to  snatch  a  few  brief,  inexpressibly  sad,  yet  tender 
moments  before  the  train  arrived  from  Talyfaln. 

"  You  are  a  good  and  brave  Goose,"  whispered 
Jim,  "  and  a  lucky  Goose  too,  you  know.  You  must 
come  sometimes  to  see  us  humble  suburban  people,  and 
we  will  lay  down  a  red  carpet  for  you,  and  in  every 
way  we  will  do  our  best.  Because,  you  know,  you 
are  going  to  be  very  grand." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  grand,"  said  the  Goose  Girl, 
with  whom  tears  were  still  very  imminent. 

"  I  have  a  great  idea,"  said  Jim.  "  Get  old  man 
Cheriton  to  buy  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford,  and 
then  ask  me  and  my  old  lady  to  come  and  stay  with 
you  for  a  fortnight.  We  will  give  them  such  a  roast- 
ing at  the  Parsonage — especially  that  girl  Polly — 
as  they  have  not  had  lately." 

Somehow  this  scheme  of  Jim's  seemed  to  infuse 
a  ray  of  hope  in  the  forlorn  heart  of  the  Goose 
Girl. 

"  Jim,"  said  she  in  a  thrilling  voice,  "  perhaps 
Lord  Cheriton  might  buy  the  Red  House  for  you  and 
Muffin." 

"  Or  perhaps  pigs  might  fly,"  said  Jim. 

"  You  will  marry  Muffin,  won't  you.?  P-r-romise 
me,  Jim,  that  you  will." 

"  What  is  the  good,  you  Goose,  of  my  p-r-romising 
to  marry  the  Ragamuffin?  How  do  you  suppose  a 
poor  painting  chap,  who  lives  with  his  old  mother  at 
Balham,  can  marry  into  a  family  with  a  real  live 


390  ARAMINTA 

countess  in  it  ?  What  do  you  suppose  that  girl  Polly 
would  have  to  say  upon  the  subject?  " 

This  great  idea,  however,  had  insinuated  itself  into 
the  Goose  Girl's  slow-moving  and  tenacious  mind,  and 
of  course  it  stuck  there. 

"  Jim,"  said  she,  just  as  the  signal  fell  for  the  train 
from  Talyfaln,  and  the  solemn  conviction  of  her  tone 
was  such  that  Jim  hardly  knew  whether  to  laugh  or 
to  shed  tears,  yet  hardly  liking  in  public  to  adopt 
the  latter  course,  decided  in  favor  of  the  former; 
"  Jim,"  said  she,  "  I  am  sure  Muffin  would  love  to 
marry  you.  And  she  is  such  a  swedt.  I  shall  write 
to  dearest  papa  about  it." 

Before  Jim  could  make  a  fitting  reply  the  train 
from  Talyfaln  came  snorting  and  rattling  in  with  a 
great  display  of  unnecessary  violence.  Jim  had  to 
look  after  the  luggage,  while  Lord  Cheriton,  with  his 
accustomed  gallantry,  handed  Jim's  mother,  her  red 
umbrella,  and  her  French  novel  into  a  third-class  com- 
partment. Muffin  personally  supervised  the  installa- 
tion of  Polly's  dress-basket  into  the  luggage  van, 
and  gave  the  porter  twopence  out  of  her  chain  purse. 

"  Get  in,  you  Ragamuffin,"  said  Jim,  sternly,  "  or 
else  you  will  be  left." 

Muffin  gave  her  sister,  who  was  forlornly  witness- 
ing these  operations,  a  final  hug  an3  received  one  in 
return.  She  was  then  handed  with  considerable  cere- 
mony into  the  compartment  which  contained  Mrs. 
Lascelles. 

Jim  gave  sixpence  to  the  porter,  and  then  had  a 
craving  to  kiss  the  Goose  Girl,  but  did  not  quite  know 


GOOD-BY  391 

how  to  manage  it,  as  the  down  platform  at  Dwygyfy 
is  such  a  pubHc  place.  Therefore  he  had  to  be  con- 
tent with  squeezing  her  hand. 

"  Now  remember,"  was  his  parting  injunction, 
"  you  are  a  very  lucky  Goose  Girl  indeed.  And  your 
papa  and  Polly  and  Milly  and  all  of  them  are  going 
to  be  awfully  proud  of  you.  And  if  you  forget  the 
Acacias  at  Balham,  my  old  mother  will  never  forgive 
you." 

As  Jim  came  aboard  Cheriton  shook  his  hand  with 
real  warmth. 

"  Good-by,  Lascelles,"  said  he.  "  I  hope  there  will 
be  some  entertaining  at  Cheriton  House  one  of  these 
days.  I  hope  I  can  count  on  you  and  your  mother 
to  stand  by  me.  And  when  the  masterpiece  is  quite 
finished  let  me  know  and  I  will  tell  you  what  to  do 
with  it." 

The  guard  slammed  the  door  and  blew  his  whistle. 
As  the  train  moved  off  the  window  of  the  third-class 
compartment  was  occupied  by  a  wonderful  yet  sub- 
stantial vision  in  mauve,  waving  affectionate  farewells 
to  a  group  of  three  persons  and  a  small  dog  as- 
sembled on  the  platform.  They  all  stood  watching 
it,  until  the  sunlight  was  cheated  suddenly  of  the 
daffodil-colored  mane  gleaming  from  under  the 
Slocum  Magna  cucumber  basket  by  the  jaws  of  the 
tunnel  immediately  outside  Dwygyfy  station,  which  is 
two  miles  and  a  quarter  in  length. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

DISINTEGRATION 

FROM  the  moment  that  train  steamed  away  from 
Dwjgyfy  there  was  no  more  decent  weather. 
Day  after  day  it  thundered  and  lightened,  it  hailed 
and  it  blew ;  day  after  day  it  poured  in  torrents.  For 
a  whole  week  Cheriton  endured  this  distemper  of  the 
Welsh  climate,  which  according  to  Borrow  is,  in  the 
most  favorable  circumstances,  of  a  very  fickle  char- 
acter. His  man  Johnson  then  packed  up  his  traps, 
and  the  pair  of  them  were  spirited  away  upon  an  ex- 
tremely inclement  morning  by  the  eleven-o'clock  train. 
Scotland  was  their  destination.  In  that  land  of 
cakes  and  heather  were  some  old  friends  who  set  apart 
September  for  playing  bridge  for  moderate  stakes 
and  for  the  shooting  of  grouse. 

Of  course  before  Cheriton  went  up  to  Scotland  he 
freely  discussed  his  proposed  matrimonial  adventure 
with  the  sagacious  Caroline.  She  had  not  hesitated 
to  affirm  that  the  man  Lascelles  had  behaved  like  a 
gentleman.  It  was  only  in  extreme  instances  that  she 
felt  called  upon  to  make  a  statement  of  that  kind. 
It  was  a  testimonial  she  did  not  give  willingly,  be- 
cause in  her  opinion  it  was  the  highest  there  was  to 
bestow  upon  the  members  of  the  sex  to  which  the  man 
Lascelles  belonged. 

392 


DISINTEGRATION  393 

As  became  a  man  of  leisure,  Cherlton  was  very 
leisurely  in  his  methods.  He  did  not  propose  to  marry 
Miss  Perry  until  the  spring.  Caroline  was  inclined 
to  demur.  She  did  not  care  to  let  the  grass  grow 
under  her  feet.  Cheriton  might  change  his  mind,  or 
a  hundred  things  might  happen.  Stability  at  any 
rate  was  not  his  forte. 

"  No,  my  dear  Caroline,"  said  a  sagacity  that  was 
in  nowise  less  than  her  own,  "  the  creature  is  a  little 
undeveloped  at  present  to  my  mind.  A  few  months 
more  of  the  great  world  in  order  that  she  may  acquire 
a  deeper  sense  of  the  responsibilities  of  the  position 
will  do  her  no  harm.  Besides  spring,  my  dear  Caro- 
line, is  the  time  for  marriage.  It  is  the  vernal  sea- 
son.    It  is  nature's  own  appointed  wedding-day." 

Caroline  did  not  concur,  of  course.  It  only  re- 
mained for  her,  however,  to  acquiesce  ungraciously. 
Yet  there  was  one  thing  she  could  do,  and  this  she 
did.  She  sent  for  her  lawyer  to  have  the  terms  of 
the  nuptial  contract  set  out  in  form.  Her  old  and 
trusted  legal  adviser,  Mr.  Giles  Grabham,  of  Messrs. 
Pettigrew,  Grabham,  Grabham,  and  Horrobin,  of 
Old  Square,  Lincoln's  Inn,  spent  two  nights  and  a 
day  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle,  and  placed  the  matter  on 
a  comprehensive  basis.  Cheriton  appeared  to  derive 
a  great  deal  of  amusement  from  the  whole  proceed- 
ing. However,  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  attach  what 
Mr.  Grabham  called  "  a  provisional  signature  to  the 
memorandum." 

Divers  copies  were  engrossed  of  what  Mr.  Grabham 
called   "  the   instrument,"   by    the    clerical   staff   of 


894  ARAMINTA 

Messrs.  Pettigrew,  Grabham,  Grabham,  and  Horro- 
bln,  one  of  which  was  duly  forwarded  to  Lord  Cher- 
iton  at  Pen-y-Gros  Castle,  North  Wales,  two  days 
after  his  lordship's  departure  from  the  Principality. 
It  was  accompanied  by  two  others  addressed  to  the 
Countess  of  Crewkerne. 

Upon  the  receipt  of  these  documents  Miss  Perry 
was  commanded  by  Aunt  Caroline  to  write  to  her 
papa  to  explain  the  signal  honor  that  had  been  con- 
ferred upon  her ;  and  to  inclose  a  copy  of  the  deed 
of  settlement  for  his  inspection,  sanction,  and  signa- 
ture. In  obedience  to  this  command,  with  infinite 
labor  and  difficulty  and  many  tears.  Miss  Perry  com- 
posed the  following : — 

Papa  Dearest, — Aunt  Caroline  desires  me  to 

write  to  inform  you  that  her  old  friend  the  Earl 

of  Cheriton  has  done  me  the  honor  of  wishing 

to  marry  me — that  is,  Papa  Dearest,  if  you  have 

no  objection.     Aunt  Caroline  desires  me  to  say 

that  in  her  judgment  there  can  he  no  possible 

objection  to  Lord  Cheriton,  as  he  is  very  rich, 

his  life  has  been  worthy,  and  she  has  known  him 

herself  personally  for  more  than  sixty  years. 

Aunt  Caroline  desires  me  to  enclose  this  copy  of 

the  deed  of  settlement,  which  she  hopes  you  will 

approve  and  return  to  her  with  your  signature. 

With  fondest   love.   Papa  Dearest,   and   twelve 

kisses,   which  I  enclose  xxxxxxxxxxxx,  Believe  me 

to  remain  your  most  Dutiful  and  Affectionate 

Daughter  . 

^  Araminta. 


DISINTEGRATION  895 

P.S.  Have  you  any  objection  to  Muffin 
marrying  Jim  Lascelles,  who  used  to  live  at  the 
Red  House  at  Widdifordf  It  would  be  too 
sweet. 

The  more  formal  part  of  this  production  had  been 
written  to  Aunt  Carohne's  dictation.  She  inspected 
the  finished  performance  grimly.  The  writing  was 
large  and  round  and  as  transparently  simple  as  Miss 
Perry's  own  countenance,  and  it  was  blotted  freely 
with  tears.  In  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term  it  was  a 
human  document,  and  as  such  Aunt  Caroline  de- 
cided that  it  should  be  sent.  Miss  Perry  was  not  the 
first  Wargrave  who  had  been  consigned  to  the  scaf- 
fold, and  doubtless  she  would  not  be  the  last. 

A  week  elapsed  before  a  reply  was  received  at 
Pen-y-Gros  Castle,  and  even  then  the  copy  of  the  deed 
was  not  returned  indorsed  with  the  signature  of  the 
Reverend  Aloysius  Perry.  His  communication  upon 
the  subject  was  as  follows: — 

My  dear  Daughter, — Your  letter  came  to 
me  as  a  great  surprise.  Firstly,  I  should  like 
to  express  to  your  Aunt  Caroline  the  deep  sense 
of  obligation  we  all  feel  under  in  regard  to  her, 
not  only  in  the  matter  of  her  very  great  kindness 
to  you  personally,  but  also  for  the  great  kind- 
ness and  consideration  she  extended  to  Elizabeth 
during  her  montWs  sojourn  at  Pen-y-Gros 
Castle.  Elizabeth  cannot  -find  enough  to  say  in 
her  praise. 

Now  in  regard  to  yourself, my  dear  Araminta, 


396  ARAMINTA 

while  I  recognize  to  the  full  the  dazzling  nature 
of  your  prospects,  and  I  do  not  know  in  what 
manner  to  thank  your  Aunt  for  her  princely 
suggestion,  I  want  you  to  believe,  and  I  want 
her  to  believe  also,  that  I  have  no  other  thought 
and  no  other  desire  than  that  whatever  line  of 
action  you  embark  upon  shall  lead  to  your  ulti- 
mate and  permanent  happiness.  That  above 
everything  is  what  I  desire.  I  have  refrained 
from  attaching  my  signature  to  the  deed  of  set- 
tlement which  your  Aunt  has  been  so  kind  as  to 
send  to  me,  for  while  recognizing  to  the  full  her 
large-hearted  generosity  and  her  really  princely 
munificence,  I  shall  like  to  have  your  own  as- 
surance, my  dear  Daughter,  that  you  are  con- 
sulting your  own  highest  welfare  and  happiness 
irrespective  of  that  of  anyone  else.  I  trust 
your  Aunt  will  not  consider  me  lacking  in  grati- 
tude or  in  practical  common  sense.  Please  write 
to  me  again  upon  the  subject,  and  believe  me  to 
remain  your  affectionate  father, 

Aloysius  Perey. 

Aunt  Caroline  snorted  a  good  deal  when  she  read 
this  letter.  She  declared  it  was  so  like  a  parson  to 
say  a  great  deal  more  than  he  need  in  order  to  ex- 
press a  great  deal  less  than  he  ought.  However,  she 
was  perfectly  ruthless  upon  the  subject.  Araminta 
was  ordered  to  allay  the  scruples  of  her  father ;  and 
this  the  unhappy  Goose  Girl  did,  with  many  private 
tears,  to  her  aunt's  dictation. 


DISINTEGRATION  397 

In  due  course  the  document  was  returned  with  her 
father's  signature.  Then  she  felt  that  indeed  her 
doom  was  sealed.  She  was  a  most  docile  and  duteous 
creature,  and  even  Aunt  Caroline  admitted  it ;  but 
her  appetite  declined,  her  laughter  lost  its  gayety, 
her  youth  its  cheerful  irresponsibility,  and  life  be- 
came for  her  a  heavy  and  listless  routine. 

Poor  Jim  Lascelles  had  his  bad  time  too.  He  re- 
turned to  the  Acacias  with  his  mother,  fully  deter- 
mined to  maintain  his  tripartite  role  of  a  Lascelles,  a 
hero,  and  a  gentleman.  He  determined  to  take  the 
superhuman  course  of  acting  as  though  the  Goose 
Girl  had  no  place  in  his  Hfe  whatever. 

Alas  for  the  vanity  of  human  resolves  1  The  first 
thing  he  did  upon  his  return  home  was  to  take  the 
key  of  his  studio  off  the  sitting-room  chimney-piece  in 
order  to  bestow  a  few  final  touches  upon  a  work  which 
by  now  was  hardly  in  need  of  them.  He  deluded  him- 
self with  the  idea  that  the  task  was  imposed  in  cold 
blood  in  order  that  he  might  prove  to  himself  how 
strong  he  was,  and  that  by  the  mere  exercise  of  the 
will  the  image  of  the  peerless  original  could  be  cut 
away  from  the  living  tissue  of  his  thoughts. 

Alas!  it  could  not  be  done.  Jim  Lascelles  failed 
dismally  to  assert  the  mind's  dominion.  A  strange 
excitement  overtook  him,  and  for  several  days  he 
worked  in  quite  a  frenzy  of  enthusiasm,  modifying 
this,  painting  out  that,  enhancing  the  other.  It  was 
a  dangerous  kind  of  solace.  He  performed  surpris- 
ing feats,  it  is  true;  his  color  grew  more  and  more 
audacious,  only  to  be  harmonized  marvelously,  but 


398  ARAMINTA 

he  could  not  sleep  at  night.  He  came  down  to  break- 
fast haggard  and  wild-eyed,  and  looking  a  degree 
more  unstable  than  when  he  had  retired  in  the  small 
hours  of  the  morning. 

He  had  determined  to  withhold  from  his  mother 
the  true  state  of  the  case.  But  he  had  hopelessly 
underrated  the  flair  of  the  genus.  Very  soon  she 
had  the  truth  out  of  him;  and,  without  letting  Jim 
see  her  concern,  she  grew  alarmed  for  him.  Yet  she 
could  confess  to  no  surprise.  From  the  first  she  had 
foreseen  that  this  was  a  turn  the  thing  must  take  al- 
most inevitably.  Had  it  not  been  Lord  Cheriton,  it 
must  have  been  another.  For  the  Goose,  notwith- 
standing her  limited  capacity,  was  an  absurdly  regal 
creature;  one  of  those  oddly  compounded,  solemn, 
unaspiring  masterpieces  designed  by  nature  for  a 
gorgeous  frame,  who  by  a  kind  of  inalienable  right 
command  a  splendid  destiny. 

Jim's  mother  blamed  herself,  as  mothers  are  so  apt 
to  do,  although  she  really  had  no  part  in  Jim's  mis- 
fortune. She  had  merely  lent  a  kind  of  whimsical 
countenance  to  the  young  fellow's  ambitions,  in  order 
primarily  to  give  him  a  zest  in  his  work.  The  con- 
sequences entailed  by  the  acquisition  of  that  zest  bade 
fair  to  become  melancholy;  but  in  any  case  the  re- 
sponsibility for  laying  the  mine  was  not  hers,  any 
more  than  it  was  Cheriton's  for  applying  the 
match. 

"If  it  had  not  been  one,  laddie,"  said  Mrs.  Las- 
celles,  philosophically,  "  it  would  have  been  the  other. 
Had  I  prophesied,  I  should  have  said  that  destiny 


DISINTEGRATION  399 

would  have  made  her  a  duchess.  But  either  way,  I 
don't  think  it  matters.  I  feel  sure  that  Lord  Cher- 
iton  will  be  very  good  to  her,  although  there  is  little 
consolation  in  that." 

Precious  little  consolation,  in  Jim's  opinion.  By 
the  time  October  came  he  was  worn  to  a  shade,  and 
the  masterpiece  was  finally  completed.  His  mother 
was  alarmed  for  him  then.  She  suggested  a  voyage 
to  Spain  and  a  visit  to  the  Prado,  in  order  that  he 
might  pay  homage  at  the  shrine  of  the  great  Velas- 
quez. The  suggestion  was  a  good  one,  but  unfor- 
tunately it  did  not  come  within  the  range  of  practical 
politics.  They  had  both  spent  all  their  money.  Mrs. 
Lascelles  had  overdrawn  her  meager  allowance,  and 
Jim  was  in  debt. 

"  Tell  Lord  Cheriton  his  picture  is  complete,  and 
dun  him  for  the  price  of  it.". 

"  No,  old  lady,"  said  Jim,  with  a  sad  shake  of  the 
head ;  "  we  have  to  look  to  what  we  can  raise  on  that 
little  work  to  keep  a  roof  over  our  heads  during  the 
winter." 

His  mother  showed  a  most  resolute  optimism. 

"  Lay  out  every  penny  of  the  money  on  a  visit  to 
Spain,"  said  she.  "  Velasquez  will  inspire  you.  You 
will  return  with  a  cubit  added  to  your  stature;  you 
will  finish  The  Naiad  triumphantly,  and,  once  you 
have  done  that,  you  will  have  convinced  the  world 
you  can  paint." 

"  And  in  the  meantime,  old  lady,  what  about  the 
rint?  "  said  Jim. 

"  Oh,  that,"  said  his  mother,  airily — "  that  can 


400  ARAMINTA 

take  care  of  itself.  Besides,  I  dreamt  last  night  that 
the  pubhshers  had  accepted  '  The  Fair  Immortal.'  " 

"  That  is  not  quite  the  same  thing,  senora,  as 
receiving  a  check  for  it,"  said  Jim,  gloomily. 

It  would  seem,  however,  that  Providence  was  keep- 
ing its  eye  on  the  Acacias.  For  the  very  next  morn- 
ing brought  a  solution  of  the  difficulty.  The  marquis 
wrote  from  Yorkshire  to  suggest  that  during  the  fol- 
lowing week,  if  convenient  to  himself,  Mr.  Lascelles 
should  come  to  Barne  Moor,  as  previously  arranged, 
to  paint  the  fair  Priscilla. 

It  appeared  that  in  the  stress  of  circumstance  both 
Jim  and  his  mother  had  forgotten  the  Yorkshire 
marquis  and  the  fair  Priscilla. 

"  And  it  means  a  cool  five  hundred,  too,"  said  Jim, 
with  a  little  pardonable  exultation.  "  The  terms  are 
already  arranged,  thanks  to  that  old  sportsman  who 
is  the  oddest  mixture  of  a  human  being  I  have  ever 
met." 

And  then  Jim  gave  a  groan,  for  he  remembered 
that  it  was  upon  the  strength  of  this  important  com- 
mission he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  take  the  plunge 
with  the  Goose  Girl.  The  next  moment  he  was  curs- 
ing himself  because  his  upper  lip  was  so  flabby. 

"  You  will  never  be  the  least  use  in  this  world, 
James  Lascelles,  my  son,"  was  the  burden  of  his 
reflections,  "  if  you  can't  learn  to  take  a  facer  or  two. 
Every  time  they  knock  you  down  you  have  got  to 
come  up  smiling,  or  you  will  certainly  never  be  a 
Velasquez." 

Mrs.  Lascelles  was  overjoyed  by  the  providential 


DISINTEGRATION  401 

letter  from  Yorkshire.  She  blessed  the  marquis  and 
all  his  acres.  She  insisted  that  Jim  should  write  by 
the  next  post  to  annoimce  his  intention  of  coming  to 
Barne  Moor  on  the  following  Monday.  And,  in  order 
that  there  should  be  no  possible  doubt  about  the  mat- 
ter, she  put  on  her  hat,  although  it  was  raining  hard, 
and  sallied  forth  to  the  stationer's  shop  at  the  corner 
of  Chestnut  Road  and  invested  one  of  her  few  re- 
maining sixpences  in  Bradshaw's  Guide. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


BARNE    MOOR 


ABOUT  tea-time  on  the  following  Monday  Jim 
Lascelles  found  himself  at  Barne  Moor.  The 
house  was  a  bleak  upstanding  place  in  the  north  of 
Yorkshire.  It  was  in  a  fold  of  the  moors,  and,  al- 
though its  size  was  impressive,  it  was  architecturally 
hideous. 

Jim  had  been  very  unhappy  all  the  way  up  from 
London.  The  change  of  locale,  however,  raised  his 
spirits  a  little.  The  contemplation  of  the  five  hun- 
dred pounds  and  a  period  of  definite  employment  did 
something  to  help  him  also.  And  hardly  had  he  set 
foot  in  the  house  than  a  great  surprise  was  in  store 
for  him. 

Almost  the  first  person  he  saw  was  the  Goose  Girl. 
She  had  been  out  with  the  guns,  and  was  now  con- 
suming tea  and  hot  buttered  cakes.  It  was  nearly 
six  weeks  since  they  had  parted  in  Wales.  In  that 
period  each  had  changed.  With  his  artist's  eye  Jim 
could  not  help  noticing  that  she  was  still  the  elemental 
creature  of  the  Devonshire  lanes.  Her  candor  and 
simpHcity  were  not  less  than  they  were,  but  some- 
where in  her  was  a  kind  of  reserved  inclosure,  an  ex- 
panse of  deep  feeling  hidden  away,  which  only  those 
who  held  her  secret  would  ever  be  able  to  discover. 

403 


BARNE  MOOR  403 

Perhaps  Jim  Lascelles  was  glad  to  notice  it.  It 
did  honor  to  the  slow-witted  immobile  creature,  and 
it  did  honor  to  him.  Yes,  she  was  true  blue.  There 
was  nothing  in  her  words  and  very  little  in  the  man- 
ner of  her  greeting  to  suggest  that  a  creature  so 
primitive  as  herself  had  this  reserved  space  in  her. 
She  was  just  as  she  always  was,  and  yet  at  her  first 
words  of  greeting  Jim  knew  that  she  was  much  more. 
"Why,  it's  Jim!"  she  exclaimed  in  just  the  old 
way;  and  putting  her  cake  in  her  saucer,  she  said, 
"  I  can't  shake  hands  with  you,  Jim,  because  my 
fingers  are  all  over  butter." 

Jim  hardly  knew  whether  to  rejoice  at  her  pres- 
ence or  to  be  dismayed  by  it. 

"  Why,  Goose  Girl,"  said  he,  "  whoever  could  have 
thought  of  seeing  you  here.''  " 

"  Aunt  CaroHne  is  here,"  said  she,  "  and  Miss 
Burden,  and  Lord  Cheriton  too." 

"  How  strange  that  we  should  meet  again  like 
this !  "  said  Jim,  rather  lamely. 

Yet  it  was  scarcely  so  strange  as  Jim  thought  it 
was.  Aunt  Caroline,  in  spite  of  her  years  and  her 
increasingly  difficult  temper,  still  had  certain  houses 
open  to  her,  and  Barne  Moor  was  one  of  them.  Her 
store  of  energy  was  by  no  means  exhausted ;  she  liked 
still  to  keep  in  the  world,  to  know  what  was  doing; 
and  she  liked  her  rubber.  It  would  not,  perhaps,  be 
strictly  true  to  say  that  she  was  welcome  at  Barne 
Moor,  but  when  Wales  began  to  bore  her  she  reso- 
lutely turned  her  face  in  that  direction,  because  she 
knew  that  at  that  time  Yorkshire  would  contain  a 


404  ARAMINTA 

choice  collection  of  her  friends  and  her  enemies,  and 
would  be  infinitely  more  diverting  than  Pen-y-Gros 
Castle  or  London  itself  in  the  absence  of  Parliament. 

At  Barne  Moor  Jim  of  course  was  a  nobody,  and 
was  treated  as  such.  His  hostess,  who  was  of  the 
strain  of  the  former  Whig  oligarchy,  like  so  many 
to  be  found  under  that  ample  roof,  was  not  so  much 
exclusive  as  she  was  indifferent  to  those  outside  the 
circle.  She  was  a  ponderous,  neutral  kind  of  woman, 
who  bullied  her  husband  and  had  very  definite  views 
about  religion.  From  the  first  Jim  Lascelles  did  not 
find  her  in  the  last  easy  to  get  on  with.  It  must  be 
confessed  that  he  did  not  try  to  get  on  with  her 
particularly. 

Still,  during  the  time  Jim  spent  at  Barne  Moor 
things  did  not  go  amiss.  The  Goose  Girl  was  still 
the  child  of  nature  she  had  always  been.  The  old 
woman  of  Hill  Street  was  reasonably  civil;  quite  as 
civil,  in  fact,  as  Jim  expected  her  to  be.  Miss 
Burden,  in  a  curiously  delicate  manner,  showed  that 
she  understood  the  tragedy.  As  for  Cheriton,  who 
was  an  old  friend  of  the  house,  and  for  some  reason 
high  in  the  esteem  of  everybody,  he  extended  the 
same  genial  kindness  to  him  that  he  had  always  done. 

The  only  other  of  Jim's  acquaintances  among  the 
score  or  so  people  that  were  gathered  under  the  hos- 
pitable roof  of  Barne  Moor  was  George  Betterton. 
No  announcement  had  yet  been  made  upon  the  sub- 
ject, but  It  was  common  knowledge  that  "  an  ar- 
rangement "  was  likely  to  be  forthcoming  with  a 
daughter  of  the  house. 


BARNE  MOOR  405 

Jim  Lascelles  supposed  that  "  the  old  sportsman  " 
knew  his  own  business  best,  but  he  rather  hoped  that 
"  it  wouldn't  come  off."  In  Jim's  opinion  "  George 
was  a  genuine  fellow,"  and  Jim  personally  had  not 
the  least  admiration  for  the  fair  Priscilla.  For  one 
thing  he  had  to  paint  her  to  order ;  and  that  of  course 
did  not  tell  in  her  favor  with  the  temperament  of 
genius. 

She  had  not  the  least  sense  of  pose.  She  was  just 
a  wooden  sort  of  Englishwoman,  as  neutral  as  her 
mother,  who  clipped  her  g's  and  powdered  her  nose, 
with  dull  red  hair  and  pale  green  eyes,  who  took  very 
little  interest  in  anything  or  anybody.  But  she  shot 
well  and  rode  well,  and  went  to  church  twice  on 
Sunday. 

She  sat  half  a  dozen  times,  and  the  rising  artist  did 
what  he  could  with  her.  Jim's  special  talent  lay  in 
his  color  and  his  sense  of  values.  He  used  the  dark 
oak  of  the  gloomy  old  library  for  his  background, 
and  he  painted  Priscilla's  hair  a  warm  and  glowing 
Titian  color,  with  a  striking  and  distinguished  pallor 
for  the  face ;  and  for  the  eyes  a  shade  of  blue  which 
was  extremely  daring  but  successful.  The  picture 
in  its  style  and  its  distinction  was  absurdly  unlike 
Priscilla  herself;  yet  somehow  it  was  sufficiently  like 
her  to  pass  muster  with  those  who  cared  more  for 
Priscilla  than  they  did  for  her  counterfeit  present- 
ment. 

About  the  fifth  day  of  Jim's  sojourn  Cheriton  an- 
nounced that  the  picture  of  Priscilla  was  going  to 
turn  out  very  fine.     He  exhorted  Kendal  publicly  to 


406  ARAMINTA 

send  it  to  the  next  Royal  Academy,  and  complimented 
him  upon  having  had  the  foresight  and  good  sense 
to  obtain  the  man  of  the  future  to  do  the  work.  The 
bullet-headed  Yorkshireman  was  pleased,  of  course, 
since  every  bullet-headed  Yorkshireman  likes  to  be 
complimented  on  his  foresight  and  good  sense  by  an 
acknowledged  expert. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  would  paint  my  wife,"  said  Mr. 
Crosby  of  the  Foreign  Office. 

"  You  can  ask  him,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  the 
expert. 

"  Would  he  want  a  stiff  figure.?  "  said  Mr.  Crosby, 
who  had  a  very  practical  mind. 

"  It  would  cost  you  a  cool  thousand,  I  dare  say," 
said  Cheriton,  before  Kendal  could  announce  that  it 
had  cost  him  five  hundred. 

"  Stiff,  ain't  it,  for  an  unknown  man?  "  said  Mr. 
Crosby. 

"  He  is  going  to  be  the  man,  my  dear  fellow,"  said 
Cheriton.  "  What  do  you  say,  Caroline?  You  have 
seen  some  of  his  work." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Cheriton,"  said  the  flattered 
Caroline,  who  knew  as  much  about  pictures  as  Ponto 
did.  "  He  has  painted  two  of  my  nieces,  and  in  my 
opinion  they  are  excellent  likenesses." 

"  Have  you  two  nieces,  Caroline?  "  said  the  Mar- 
quis. "  That  is  interesting.  When  are  we  to  have 
the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  other  one?  " 

"  Next  season — perhaps." 

As  yet  there  had  been  no  formal  announcement  of 
Cheriton's  engagement,  but  it  was  known  to  many. 


BARNE  MOOR  407 

It  is  true  that  those  who  were  best  acquainted  with 
him  maintained  an  attitude  of  increduHty.  So  many 
times  in  the  past  had  there  been  talk  of  entertaining 
at  Cheriton  House.  Yet  there  was  a  consensus  of 
opinion  that  he  really  meant  to  settle  down  at  last; 
and  while  all  disinterested  people  could  not  fail  to 
admire  liis  taste,  the  critical  were  a  little  inclined  to 
doubt  his  wisdom.  Still,  there  was  no  doubt  about  the 
beauty  and  the  docility  of  his  choice,  and  in  her 
quaint  way  she  had  unmistakably  the  bel  air.  She 
was  a  good  honest  girl,  a  Wargrave,  and  the  old 
woman  of  Hill  Street  could  well  afford  to  do  some- 
thing in  the  matter.  Still,  the  knowing  ones  "  could 
not  see  it  at  all " ;  those  who  were  not  so  knowing 
thought  that  "  Cheriton  might  have  done  worse." 

All  the  same.  Miss  Perry  was  famous  and  she  was 
popular.  Her  simplicity  was  something  that  was 
growing  very  rare;  she  was  unaffectedly  good  to 
everybody,  and  everybody  could  not  help  being  grate- 
ful to  her  for  her  goodness,  because  it  sprang 
straight  from  the  heart.  No  matter  whether  people 
were  important  or  unimportant,  it  made  no  difference 
to  her.  Great  beauty  and  an  absolute  friendliness 
which  is  extended  to  all,  which  keeps  the  same 
gracious  smile  for  the  odd  man  about  the  stables  that 
it  has  for  the  wearer  of  the  Garter,  will  go  far  to- 
wards the  conquest  of  the  world. 

Miss  Perry  had  conquered  her  world.  All  agreed 
that  Cheriton  had  done  well.  Yet  the  creature  was 
not  in  the  least  happy.  So  much  practice,  however, 
had  the  Wargraves  had  in  the  course  of  the  centuries 


408  ARAMINTA 

in  dissembling  their  unhappiness  and  in  offering  their 
heads  to  the  block,  that  only  four  persons  were  able 
to  suspect  that  a  brave,  smiling,  and  bountiful  ex- 
terior concealed  a  broken  heart. 

Jim  Lascelles  was  one.  He  knew  for  certain.  Miss 
Burden  was  another.  Caroline  Crewkerne  was  no 
believer  in  broken  hearts.  For  one  thing,  she  had 
never  had  a  heart  of  any  sort  to  break.  But  she  had 
seen  those  great  damp  splotches  on  the  correspond- 
ence with  her  father,  she  had  noticed  that  the  crea- 
ture's appetite  was  not  what  it  was ;  and  there  were 
half  a  dozen  other  symptoms  that  enabled  her  to  put 
two  and  two  together.  As  for  the  fourth  person,  it 
was  Cheriton  himself.  He  was  a  man  of  immense 
practical  sagacity.  The  Lascelles  affair  was  per- 
fectly familiar  to  him  in  all  its  bearings.  He  him- 
self was  primarily  responsible  for  it.  And  none  knew 
better  than  did  he  that  youth  will  be  served. 

During  Jim's  stay  at  Barne  Moor,  Cheriton  went 
out  of  his  way  to  show  him  consideration.  He  be- 
haved like  a  habitually  courteous  and  broad-minded 
man  of  the  world,  who,  so  to  speak,  knew  the  whole 
alphabet  of  life,  and  if  necessary  could  repeat  it 
backwards. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  be  here,  my  dear  fellow," 
he  said  tacitly  to  Jim  Lascelles ;  "  but  since  my  York- 
shire friend,  Kendal,  has  blundered,  as  one's  York- 
shire friends  generally  do,  and  you  find  yourself  in 
the  wrong  galley,  behave  just  as  you  would  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  and,  if  you  have  the  courage, 
take  up  the  parable  more  or  less  where  you  left  it. 


BARNE  MOOR  409 

After  all,  you  were  brought  up  together,  and  I  am 
only  an  interloper,  and  an  old  one  at  that." 

It  was  bold  and  it  was  generous  of  Cheriton  to 
take  this  course.  But  the  young  fellow  Lascelles  had 
behaved  so  well  that  he  was  bound  to  respect  him. 
And  he  had  a  genuine  liking  for  him  too.  Therefore 
he  raised  no  objection  to  their  spending  long  hours 
upon  the  moors  with  only  one  another  for  company, 
while  he  gossiped  and  shot  birds,  and  fribbled  and 
idled  away  his  time  indoors  among  more  mature 
persons. 

Still,  it  was  trying  Jim  Lascelles  somewhat  highly. 
The  test  was  a  severer  one  than  perhaps  Cheriton 
knew.  For  Jim  was  confident  that  he  had  only  to 
speak  the  word  for  the  Goose  Girl  to  marry  him  by 
special  Hcense  at  Barne  Moor  parish  church.  Once, 
indeed,  they  found  themselves  in  it,  since  the  Goose 
Girl  was  by  way  of  being  a  connoisseur  in  churches ; 
and  they  had  a  pleasant  and  instructive  conversation 
with  the  vicar. 

However,  all's  well  that  ends  well,  as  Shakespeare 
informs  us.  Jim  Lascelles  did  not  obtain  a  special 
license,  but  returned  to  his  mother  like  a  good  son 
and,  shall  we  say,  a  man  of  honor.  For  it  would  have 
been  such  a  fatally  easy  and  natural  thing  to  marry 
the  Goose  Girl  at  Barne  Moor  parish  church.  If  you 
came  to  think  about  it,  why  should  she  be  offered  for 
sacrifice  .f^  Dickie,  of  course,  would  be  able  to  go  to 
Sandhurst,  and  Milly  would  be  able  to  go  to  the 
boarding  school ;  but  all  the  same,  it  was  desperately 
hard  on  the  Goose  Girl. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

EVERYTHING    FOR    THE    BEST    IN    THE    BEST    OF 
ALL    POSSIBLE    WORLDS 

JIM  LASCELLES  returned  to  Balham  exactly 
nine  days  after  he  had  left  that  friendly  but 
uninspired  suburb.  He  had  worked  hard  during  his 
absence  in  Yorkshire ;  the  picture  of  the  fair  Priscilla 
had  made  excellent  progress,  and  there  was  a  check 
for  five  hundred  pounds  in  prospect  on  completion. 
Further,  by  the  interest  and  undoubted  talent  for 
commerce  of  his  friend  Lord  Cheriton,  Mr.  Crosby  of 
the  Foreign  Office  had  been  induced  to  rise  to  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  for  the  portrait  of  Mrs. 
Crosby  and  her  children. 

So  far  as  the  things  of  this  world  were  concerned, 
Jim  really  returned  to  his  mother  in  high  feather. 
The  progress  he  was  making  in  his  profession  he  felt 
was  out  of  all  proportion  to  his  talent.  But  it  is  a 
great  thing  to  have  a  friend  at  court.  So  much  is 
done  in  that  way.  It  is  not  always  the  best  picture, 
or  the  best  oratorio,  or  the  best  play,  or  the  best  novel 
that  makes  the  most  guineas  in  the  market-square. 
It  is  one  thing  to  create  a  masterpiece,  and  it  is  an- 
other to  translate  it  into  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Jim  Lascelles  had  made 
amazing  strides  in  his  art;  but  all  the  same,  he  was 

410 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  411 

a  lucky  fellow  to  have  a  man  like  Cheriton  to  go 
round  with  a  bell  to  call  the  attention  of  the  picture- 
buying  public  to  the  quality  of  his  work. 

Jim  Lascelles  would  have  been  less  than  human 
had  he  not  been  immensely  grateful  to  Cheriton.  And 
yet  he  would  not  have  been  human  either  had  he  not 
hated  him  very  sorely.  After  all,  what  is  the  use  of 
material  prosperity  if  the  man  who  confers  it  upon 
you  robs  you  of  the  only  girl  in  the  world  you  feel 
you  will  ever  be  able  to  marry?  Certainly  he  would 
now  have  the  means  to  buy  his  mother  a  new  frock  or 
so  in  order  to  deprive  her  of  her  favorite  excuse  for 
not  looking  older.  But  life,  even  with  professional 
success,  was  going  to  be  a  hollow  business. 

However,  Jim  Lascelles  contrived  in  this  crisis  to 
behave  with  a  discretion  that  was  very  creditable  to 
his  character.  He  had  gone  down  to  the  depths  of 
late,  and,  as  is  often  the  case  with  such  divers  in  deep 
seas,  he  had  brought  up  a  few  pearls.  One  of  these 
was  resolution.  He  finished  the  picture  of  Priscilla 
out  of  hand  and  drew  his  check;  and  although  the 
season  was  November,  he  paid  several  visits  to  Eaton 
Square  and  did  his  best  for  Mrs.  Crosby  and  her 
youthful  family.  And  ever  and  anon  he  took  his 
courage  in  his  hands  and  spent  an  hour  in  further 
devotion  to  the  masterpiece  that  was  to  make  him 
famous. 

It  was  not  until  early  in  January  that  Jim  Las- 
celles made  the  announcement  to  his  patron  that  the 
portrait  of  Miss  Perry  was  complete.  Thereupon 
quite  a  number  of  people  interested  in  art  found  their 


412  ARAMINTA 

way  to  the  Acacias.  They  were  by  no  means  unani- 
mous in  their  opinion  regarding  its  intrinsic  merit, 
but  they  all  agreed  that  it  was  bound  to  prove  one 
of  the  sensations  of  the  year. 

"  An  extraordinarily  clever  fake,"  said  a  critic  of 
the  fine  arts  privately. 

"  Mr.  Lascelles,"  said  a  dealer,  "  I  should  like  you 
to  give  me  an  option  on  all  the  work  you  produce  dur- 
ing the  next  five  years.    I  feel  sure  I  could  sell  it." 

"  We  have  a  new  Gainsborough  here,"  said  a  third 
person,  who  spoke  in  an  unofficial  capacity,  "  and 
that  is  all  there  is  to  be  said  about  it." 

About  the  end  of  the  month  Cheriton  himself 
appeared,  duly  armed  with  expert  opinion,  to  see  for 
himself.  He  was  accompanied  by  Miss  Burden  and 
his  fiancee,  who  was  looking  thin  and  unhappy.  It 
was  a  beautiful  day  for  the  time  of  year ;  and  in  re- 
gard to  his  appearance,  the  happy  wooer  was  as 
fastidious  as  usual.  Never  had  he  seemed  more  fault- 
less in  his  attire  or  more  scrupulously  paternal  in  his 
demeanor.  He  looked  long  at  the  masterpiece,  and 
he  looked  particularly. 

"  Lascelles,  my  good  fellow,"  said  he,  "  I  am  forced 
to  arrive  at  one  conclusion.  If  you  were  to  paint  a 
thousand  pictures,  this  is  something  you  will  never 
surpass." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so?  "  said  Jim. 

"  Because,  my  dear  fellow,  there  is  growth  in  it. 
You  began  it  a  callow  stripling ;  you  have  finished  it, 
shall  I  say,  a  strong  man  in  the  plenitude  of  his 
power.     I  have  watched  you  and  the  picture  grow 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  413 

together  from  month  to  month.  It  is  given  to  no 
man  to  do  that  sort  of  thing  twice." 

Jim  Lascellcs^,  however,  was  a  robust  young  fel- 
low— at  least,  it  was  his  ideal  to  be  so.  He  was  apt 
to  be  on  his  guard  against  high-flown  sentiment,  yet 
he  knew  that  Cheriton  had  spoken  the  truth. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said  simply.  "  That  can- 
vas has  got  all  I  have  or  all  I  ever  shall  have.  I 
am  older  now  than  when  I  began  it,  and  I  hope  I'm 
wiser." 

"  Not  wiser  really,  my  dear  fellow ;  we  never  get 
wiser.  But  you  have  found  yourself.  A  great  career 
lies  before  you." 

"  You  may  be  right,"  said  Jim,  "  or  you  may  not 
be  right,  but  either  way  it  doesn't  matter." 

Cheriton  inspected  the  young  fellow  with  the 
greatest  coolness  and  impartiality.  There  was  no 
mistaking  that  the  words  were  tragic.  Cheriton's 
penetration  declared  them  to  be  so.  He  took  some 
little  time  for  reflection,  and  then  he  slowly  drew  a 
check  out  of  his  pocket-book  with  an  air  that  was 
really  unfathomable. 

"  There  must  be  no  misunderstanding,  Lascelles," 
said  he,  with  an  air  that  was  brisk  and  businesslike. 
"  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  picture  of 
Miss  Perry  will  prove  a  valuable  property.  But  at 
the  same  time,  I  hold  your  promise  that  I  may  pur- 
chase it  on  my  own  terms.     Is  not  that  the  case.?  " 

"  It  is.  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim,  with  indifference. 

"  I  hope  the  bargain  I  drove  with  you  may  not 
prove  too  hard,"  said  Cheriton,  with  an  enigmatic 


414  ARAMINTA 

smile  that  Jim  Lascelles  took  not  the  least  pains  to 
fathom.  "  But  if  I  may  say  so,  your  conduct  in  al- 
lowing me  to  drive  such  a  bargain  was  curiously  in- 
judicious. For  everybody  tells  me  that  your  picture 
is  magnificent." 

"  I  don't  think  it  matters,"  said  Jim,  who  was 
looking  tired.  "  Although  one  is  glad  you  like  it,  of 
course." 

"  It  must  always  be  pleasant  to  the  artist  to  have 
his  work  admired.  My  own  comment  upon  your  work 
is  this.  I  hope,  my  dear  fellow,  you  will  be  able  to 
forgive  its  extravagance." 

As  he  spoke  he  gave  the  check  to  Jim  Lascelles. 
The  painter,  however,  paid  no  heed  to  it  at  first.  His 
instinct  was  to  crush  it  in  his  hands  and  fling  it  away, 
so  repugnant  was  the  piece  of  paper  to  the  touch. 
Now  that  the  time  had  come  to  part  with  the 
sole  remaining  solace  he  possessed,  he  felt  unable  to 
yield  it. 

This,  however,  was  a  weakness  he  must  not  indulge. 
He  looked  at  the  paper  perfunctorily,  and  then  he 
gave  a  little  exclamation.  The  check  was  made  out 
in  his  favor  for  ten  thousand  pounds. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  Jim.  "  Is  there  not 
some  mistake?  " 

"  You  must  constrain  your  modesty  a  little,  that 
is  all,"  said  Cheriton.  "  People  tell  me  it  will  be 
worth  every  penny  of  this  sum  to  the  next  genera- 
tion. It  is  pleasant  sometimes  to  anticipate  the  ver- 
dict of  posterity." 

Jim  Lascelles  did  not  know  how  to  act  or  what 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  415 

to  say.  In  his  judgment  this  was  the  most  Quixotic 
proceeding  he  had  ever  encountered. 

"  Really,  Lord  Cheriton,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  feel 
that  there  are  sufficient  grounds  upon  which  I  can 
accept  such  a  sum  as  this." 

"  A  bargain  is  a  bargain,"  said  Cheriton.  "  I  hold 
your  promise  that  I  am  to  purchase  the  picture  on 
my  own  terms." 

In  the  flood  tide  of  his  bewilderment  Jim  Lascelles 
had  perforce  to  remain  silent. 

"  Don't  forget,  my  dear  Lascelles,  that  the  highest 
pleasure  that  is  given  to  any  man  is  to  adopt  the  role 
of  Maecenas.  And  are  3^ou  aware  that  the  Red 
House  at  Widdiford  is  in  the  market,  and  that  six 
thousand  pounds  will  purchase  it?  " 

Jim  flinched  a  little.  A  deep  flush  overspread  his 
face.  This  was  sacred  ground,  upon  which  it  be- 
hoved the  outside  world  to  tread  warily. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  mean  that  the  Red  House  at 
Widdiford  means  nothing  to  you?  " 

Jim  was  not  proof  against  the  assault. 

*'  I'm  not  sure  that  it  does,"  he  said  miserably. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  too  sure  about  that  if  I  were  you." 

Jim  began  to  look  decidedly  fierce.  In  spite  of 
the  check  for  ten  thousand  pounds,  which  he  viewed 
as  somewhat  in  the  nature  of  a  mockery,  he  showed 
no  disposition  to  be  baited. 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  wise,  Lord  Cheriton,  not  to 
pursue  the  subject." 

Cheriton  laughed  outright  at  the  solemnity  of  the 
young  fellow's  manner. 


416  ARAMINTA 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  he,  "  one  feels  that  the 
subject  of  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford  should  be 
discussed  at  length.  Miss  Perry  and  I  have  been 
over  to  look  at  the  old  place  before  completing  the 
purchase." 

"  Ah !  that  is  interesting,"  said  Jim,  who  was  more 
bewildered  than  ever. 

"  It  seems  that,  in  addition  to  its  other  lures,  the 
Red  House  at  Widdiford  has  peaches  in  season." 

"  Of  course  it  has,"  said  Jim,  who  was  beginning 
to  feel  that  Cheriton  was  making  a  rather  long  ex- 
cursion in  the  realms  of  bad  taste. 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,  I  put  it  to  you — what  is 
the  use  of  having  peaches  in  season  if  one  has  not 
the  appetite  to  eat  them.^  " 

"  What,  indeed !  "  said  Jim. 

"  And  again,  my  dear  fellow — what,  pray,  is  the 
use  of  giving  Buszard  a  contract  for  the  large  size 
when  cream  buns  lose  their  savor  .^^  " 

Jim  made  no  reply,  but  merely  looked  miserable. 

''  Let  me  tell  you  in  confidence,  Lascelles,"  said  his 
patron,  in  a  becomingly  low  tone,  "  that  even  the 
circus  has  begun  to  pall.  And  as  for  Joseph  Wright 
of  Derby,  the  question  of  his  permanent  merit  is  be- 
ginning to  appear  almost  a  matter  of  indifference. 
Do  you  feel  competent  to  give  advice  in  regard  to 
what  ought  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  don't,  Lord  Cheriton,"  said  Jim, 
rather  feebly. 

"  That  is  disappointing,  for  in  the  past  you  have 
shown  such  a  surprising  fertility  of  ideas  and  re- 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  417 

sources.  The  problem  is  so  serious.  Can  one  con- 
ceive a  world  in  which  cream  buns  have  no  savor, 
circuses  no  glamor,  and  in  which  the  Joseph  Wrights 
of  Derby  are  allowed  to  ruffle  it  unquestioned  among 
their  betters.^  Frankly,  the  feat  is  beyond  me,  Las- 
celles.  And  then,  too,  my  dear  fellow,  the  news  that 
Muffin  is  to  have  a  new  mauve  from  London  to  wear 
in  the  spring  has  excited  hardly  any  enthusiasm." 

"  Indeed?  "  said  Jim. 

"  That  is  so,  I  assure  you.  And  to  my  mind,  that 
is  not  the  least  sinister  symptom.  I  have  conferred 
with  the  wise  woman  of  Hill  Street,  and  during  my 
sojourn  in  the  west  country  also  with  the  presiding 
genius  of  Slocum  Magna.  And  after  some  discussion 
of  the  pros  and  cons  of  the  situation,  for  mon  pere 
and  ma  tante  do  not  appear  to  see  eye  to  eye  in  all 
things,  we  are  at  last  in  agreement  that  something 
ought  to  be  done  to  restore  the  savor  to  the  best 
confectionery,  and  also  to  insure  that  no  upstart 
shall  occupy  without  question  the  same  kind  of 
fauteuil  as  Rembrandt  and  Velasquez.  The  result 
of  our  deliberations  is,  my  dear  fellow,  that  we  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  you  are  the  man  to  help 
us." 

"  I !  "  said  Jim,  impotently. 

"  Have  you  any  objection  to  undertaking  such  a 
scheme  of  philanthropy  .^^  " 

"  If  I  could  do  anything  to  add  to  Miss  Perry's 
happiness,"  said  Jim,  "  I  should  be  just  about  the 
proudest  chap  in  the  v/orld." 

*'  Well,  it  seems,  my  dear  fellow,  that  you  can  do 


418  ARAMINTA 

so.  At  least,  that  is  the  opinion  that  has  been  arrived 
at  by  the  experts  who  have  communed  over  her  case." 

Jim's  heart  beat  painfully. 

"  Tell  me  what  I  can  do,"  he  said  rather  hoarsely, 
"  for  the  best,  the  truest-hearted,  the  most  absolutely 
genuine  girl  in  the  world." 

"  You  can  marry  her." 

"  Marry  her.^^  "  said  Jim,  weakly. 

"  Yes,  in  the  afternoon  of  April  the  First,  at 
Saint  Sepulchre's  Church." 

"  But "  said  Jim. 

"The  oracle  of  Hill  Street  thinks  the  First  of 
June  is  preferable,  because  there  will  be  more  people 
in  town,  and  the  presents  are  likely  to  be  more  numer- 
ous. But  personally  I  agree  with  Mrs.  Lascelles  and 
mon  pere  that  April  is  as  good  a  time  as  any  other 
for  visiting  the  Prado." 

"  But "  said  Jim. 

"  I  forget  the  inn  I  stayed  at  when  I  was  last  at 
Madrid.  It  was  '  El '  Something,  and  for  some  ob- 
scure reason  it  had  no  aspirate.  But  one  Ford  is 
the  authority  for  Spain,  although,  to  be  sure,  a  cer- 
tain Borrow  wrote  a  famous  work  upon  the  subject. 
By  the  way,  we  must  not  overlook  one  important 
argument  in  favor  of  June." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Jim,  mechanically. 

"  It  is  hardly  right  to  expect  a  new  mauve  to  make 
its  debut  on  the  First  of  April.  Yet  there  seems  no 
help  for  it.  No  ceremony  could  possibly  be  consid- 
ered complete  without  it." 

"  Am    I    to    understand ? "    said    Jim,    who 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  419 

stopped  with  ridiculous  abruptness  right  in  the  mid- 
dle of  his  question. 

"  By  the  way,  my  dear  fellow,  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  of  suggesting  to  your  accomplished  mother 
that  it  might  help  her  literary  career  if  she  moved  a 
little  nearer  to  the  center.  A  little  flat  in  Knights- 
bridge  might  be  a  judicious  investment.  As  you  may 
be  aware,  publishers  as  a  race  are  highly  susceptible, 
and  an  address  in  Knightsbridge  might  favorably 
impress  them." 

"  Do  you  think  so.^^  "  said  Jim,  w4io  did  not  know 
in  the  least  what  he  was  saying. 

But  there  is  really  no  reason  to  persist  in  this 
history.  In  spite  of  scruples,  which  were  as  much 
due  to  pride  as  to  generositj^,  Jim  Lascelles  married 
the  Goose  Girl  at  Saint  Sepulchre's  Church  on  the 
First  of  April.  On  that  significant  occasion  the  pre- 
siding genius  of  Hill  Street  displayed  an  amount  of 
Christian  feeling  which,  in  the  opinion  of  a  contem- 
porary, was  without  parallel  in  his  experience. 

The  entire  family  of  Slocum  Magna,  including 
Milly,  w^hose  pigtail  was  the  color  of  a  yellow  chrys- 
anthemum, and  was  tied  with  a  ribbon,  came  up  to 
London  and  stayed  a  whole  week  at  Morley's  Hotel. 
Among  other  things,  they  all  went  one  day  to  see  the 
Exhibition,  and  found  there  wasn't  one.  Papa  dined 
twice  in  Hill  Street,  and  met  dukes  and  people ;  and 
he  brought  back  the  report  that  Aunt  Caroline  was 
less  worldly  than  he  had  feared  she  was.  He  gave  his 
daughter  away  on  the  glorious  First;  and  Muffin 
wore  her  new  mauve  on  that  occasion.    In  the  opinion 


420  ARAMINTA 

of  all  qualified  persons  it  was  quite  as  successful  as 
the  peerless  original.  Polly,  who  took  after  her  papa, 
and  had  more  intellect  than  all  the  rest  of  the  family 
put  together,  Dickie  and  Doggo  included,  looked 
charmingly  proper  in  a  "  costume  "  more  reticent 
than  Muffin's.  Her  young  man  assisted  the  Dean  of 
Dunstable,  the  uncle  of  the  bride,  in  performing  the 
ceremony. 

Jim  Lascelles  and  the  Goose  Girl  spent  a  month  in 
the  land  of  Cervantes  and  Velasquez.  They  are  liv- 
ing now  at  the  Red  House  at  Widdiford.  Jim  is 
quite  likely  to  be  elected  to  an  Associateship  of  the 
Royal  Academy  before  long.  At  least,  he  is  getting 
very  good  prices  for  his  work,  and  his  "  Miss  Perry  " 
has  been  esteemed  a  rare  triumph  for  British  art. 
His  "  Naiad  "  also,  purchased  by  the  Chantrey  Be- 
quest, has  been  generall3^  and  justly  admired. 

The  accomplished  mother  of  the  rising  artist  took 
the  disinterested  advice  of  a  well-wisher,  and  a  fort- 
night after  her  son's  brilliant  marriage — the  Morn- 
ing Mirror  described  it  as  such — she  left  "  P.P.C." 
cards  on  the  Miss  Champneys  at  the  Chestnuts,  and 
moved  "  nearer  to  the  center."  It  may  have  been 
coincidence,  or  it  may  have  been  cause  and  effect, 
but  within  a  fortnight  of  her  installation  at  No.  5, 
Beaufort  Mansions,  W.,  "  The  Fair  Immortal  "  was 
accepted  on  a  royalty  by  an  eminent  firm  of  publish- 
ers, and  made  its  appearance  in  the  course  of  the 
summer.  It  won  such  unanimous  approval  from  the 
Press  and  the  public,  that  it  can  now  be  purchased 
for  sixpence  of  any  self-respecting  bookseller  in  the 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  421 

United  Kingdom ;  its  fortunate  authoress  has  signed 
contracts  for  work  for  the  next  three  years  and  has 
been  elected  a  member  of  three  of  the  best  ladies' 
clubs  in  the  metropolis. 

Muffin's  season  at  Hill  Street  was  an  even  greater 
triumph  than  her  sister's — but  thereby  hangs  a  tale 
for  a  wet  afternoon.  Aunt  Caroline,  in  spite  of  her 
advanced  years,  is  worth  "  a  good  many  dead  ones  " 
at  present,  and  in  the  opinion  of  her  oldest  friend 
her  manner  has  more  amenity.  Perhaps  it  is  that 
tlie  influence  of  youth  has  been  a  good  one  in  her 
life.  It  is  right  to  think  so  since  there  is  no  reason 
to  believe  that  she  has  altered  her  opinion  of  the 
clergy. 

Polly  has  not  yet  married  her  parson,  but  she  is 
certain  to  do  so.  Serious  people,  however,  "  make 
haste  slowly,"  as  the  wise  Italians  say.  It  is  well  that 
they  should.  Charley  has  found  his  way  to  Sand- 
hurst all  right,  and  feels  himself  to  be  a  field-marshal 
already.  Dickie  has  lately  been  presented  to  a  living 
worth  eleven  hundred  a  year — a  really  preposterous 
emolument,  considering  the  widespread  depression  in 
things  ecclesiastical.  However,  in  justice  to  Dickie, 
it  should  be  stated  that  he  was  always  quietly  con- 
fident that  something  would  come  of  his  left-arm 
bowling.  And  so  it  ought  if  you  break  both 
ways. 

Milly  has  been  two  terms  already  at  her  Brighton 
boarding  school.  In  the  opinion  of  her  mistresses 
she  is  the  best  inside  right  at  hockey  on  the  South 
Coast.     If  she  is  not  chosen  to  play  against  Wales 


422  ARAMINTA 

in  the  forthcoming  international  match  she  will  be 
much  disappointed. 

Entertaining  at  Cheriton  House  is  still  to  seek. 
The  thing  threatens  to  become  a  national  scandal. 
Comparisons,  highly  unfavorable  to  the  present  peer, 
are  being  constantly  drawn  by  convinced  f ree-f ooders 
and  the  praisers  of  past  times.  The  noble  earl, 
however,  is  fully  occupied  at  present  in  steering  a 
course  between  the  Scylla  of  Hill  Street  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  Charybdis  of  No.  5,  Beaufort  Man- 
sions on  the  other.  The  presiding  genius  of  the 
former  locality,  however,  defines  a  coxcomb  as  a  per- 
son who  never  means  anything.  Still,  it  doesn't  do 
to  be  too  sure  in  these  days. 

As  an  instance  of  the  need  for  honest  doubt,  George 
Betterton  did  not  lead  the  fair  Priscilla  to  the  altar 
after  all.  The  world  understood  that  a  religious  dif- 
ference was  the  rock  which  sundered  them.  Whether 
George  had  too  little  religion  and  Priscilla  had  too 
much,  is  one  of  those  things  that  has  never  been 
elucidated  clearly.  But,  beyond  all  shade  of  contro- 
versy, they  were  never  brought  to  the  question. 
Priscilla  made  quite  a  good  marriage,  all  the  same. 
As  for  George — well,  what  really  happened  to  him  is 
a  story  for  one  of  those  typical  English  afternoons 
in  which  it  is  really  not  fit  for  a  dog  to  be  out. 
People  say  that  George  is  much  improved  lately. 

In  conclusion,  we  feel  bound  to  record  our  opinion 
that  it  is  gravely  to  be  doubted  whether  Jim  Lascelles 
will  make  as  great  a  painter  as  Velasquez.  Consid- 
ering his  youth,  his  attainments,  and  his  temper,  we 


EVERYTHING  FOR  THE  BEST  423 

were  among  those  who  predicted  a  high  destiny  for 
the  young  fellow,  but  that  was  before  "  the  wicket 
rolled  out  so  plumb."  Authorities  upon  the  subject 
are  not  slow  to  inform  us,  however,  that  it  is  better 
to  marry  the  girl  you  want  to,  and  to  live  at  the  Red 
House  at  Widdiford,  and  be  a  county  magistrate, 
and  to  have  a  couple  of  expensive  sons  in  the  Services, 
and  to  have  your  girls  dressed  by  Redfern  and  pre- 
sented at  Court,  than  to  appear  on  a  pedestal  by 
public  subscription  in  front  of  the  National  Gallery 
three  centuries  after  you  have  ceased  to  take  an  in- 
terest in  the  verdict  of  posterity. 

Quot  homines  tot  sententice.  These  wiseacres  may 
be  right,  or  they  may  not  be  right.  It  is  only  the 
Caroline  Crewkernes  who  are  infallible. 


THE    END 


UNIVEESITY  OF  CALIFOENIA  LIBEAET, 


BEEKELEY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

■Rnr.V<!  not  returned  o;a  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 

in  <R1  00  ver  volume  after  the  sixth  day.  _  h5ooKs  t^oi  ui 
demand  may  be  rene^ved  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 


,  DEO  IS  mi 

t 

*AY26|828 

7  1S2«^ 


'^h 


MAY    ii>t927 


^  n^"^"^ 


2A0ct'52VV. 


OCT  2  01952  Li 


\^t^ 


\M  »•?  *^^^ 


20m-ll,'20 


^  /t^UU 


¥ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


